


Cats and Witches

by EmmaSpencer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anthea helps, Broken Mycroft, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Greg is a cat...sort of, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentione of abuse, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Protective Mycroft, Running Away, Sickfic, Torture, Unset future, Witches, kingdom - Freeform, political scheming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-09 08:50:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12273009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaSpencer/pseuds/EmmaSpencer
Summary: Mycroft got wind that someone wants to hurt his brother so he decided to ran away with him. They almost froze to death when a cat rescues them. They are staying with the owner of the cat until Mycroft gets sick and starts to hallucinate......or he thought.





	1. Chapter 1

"Please brother mine, just a bit further."  
"But it's so cold...I'm hungry...I'm tired."  
"I know, I know. Come." Mycroft picked Sherlock up. "We have to go on; we'll die if we stop now."  
"Why did we have to leave in the first place?"  
"I'll explain it to you when you are older."  
"But I'm six now, I'm old enough. Why else would they select me to go to the palace?"  
"Because you couldn't play the idiot like I asked you...not asked, begged."  
"I'm cold." Sherlock buried his face to Mycroft's cloak. He walked in silence; it started to get dark and even colder. Suddenly a gray cat landed in front of him, it just stood there looking at them.  
"Kitty!" Sherlock exclaimed.  
"Yes my dear a cat." the cat meowed Mycroft tried to walk around it but it meowed again.  
"I think he wants us to follow him."  
"It's just a cat Sherlock."  
"Look." the cat walked away then back and away and back again. "Mycroft it's well fed, his fur is shining; he has a home. Please, we'll freeze to death out here." Mycroft sighed.  
"All right lead the way." the cat meowed victoriously and started to walk to the forest. Mycroft followed it with great difficulties in the deep snow.  
"Told you so." Mycroft finally looked up and saw smoke in the distance.  
"Yes you did." he kissed the top of his head. Soon they got to the house; Mycroft knocked at the door an old lady opened it.  
"Good evening Ma'am..."  
"In with you; now! My poor boys...quickly sit to the fire." she ushered them to the fireplace. "Tea, warm tea that's what you need now!" Mycroft sat down with Sherlock in his lap and pushed back his hood, the cat that was climbing up to its place above the fireplace fell down.  
"What is it Greg?" she chuckled; the cat just meowed and started to clean his fur. The lady placed mugs in their hands.  
"Greg?" Sherlock asked curiously.  
"Yes my dear. And how may I call you?"  
"Oh, apologies." Mycroft stood up and gave a little bow. "My name is Mycroft and he is my brother Sherlock."  
"Nice to meet you. Sit down my dear, my name is Mrs. Adler. Are you hungry?"  
"Yes!" Sherlock cried out. "Yes please." he whispered after looking at his brother. She just chuckled and went to fetch dinner for them. Mycroft sat there watching Sherlock trying to get the cat down from its place.  
"Kitty, kitty please..." he stretched his arms to reach him, but he wasn't tall enough.  
"Mycroft! Please."  
"Leave the cat rest brother mine."  
"Please! Please! Please!"  
"Fine." Mycroft stood up and took the cat to his hands. "Sorry." he murmured, the cat just purred in response. Sherlock sat with the cat hugging it stroking its head and back. 

"So where are you headed in this weather?" Mrs. Adler asked after dinner.  
"Yes brother mine, where are we going?" Mycroft sighed.  
"Can I put him to bed first?"  
"Well of course." he came back once Sherlock was tucked in.  
"I'm not entirely sure where are we going, we just have to get away from the country..."  
"From the palace you mean." she said, pointing at Mycroft's bandaged wrist.  
"The king loves little boys, I know it believe me." the cat settled in his lap and started to purr; Mycroft stroked him absentmindedly. "He's just six..." he trailed off.  
"Well now you are safe, unfortunately you can't go further now. We are already snowed in and it doesn't look like it would stop for days. You can stay here; you seem a fit lad you can help out around the house."  
"Of course, thank you."  
"Now you need rest now." Mycroft put the cat back to its place and went to sleep. Sherlock was wrapped in the blanket but he was still shaking, so Mycroft wrapped his around him too, pulling his brother to his arms.

"Sherlock please." Mycroft begged him, but Sherlock wouldn't listen.  
"You're going to get sick brother mine."  
"Nope." he ducked to the snow.  
"Sherlock please."  
"Snowman, can we build one?"  
"First we have to finish this."  
"But..."  
"Do you want to stay warm?"  
"Yes."  
"Then bring the basket, I chop you pack. After that we can build a snowman, promise." they quickly finished with chopping up the firewood, it was a bit harder than Mycroft remembered.  
"Now?"  
"Yes Sherlock." the cat sat in the fence watching them curiously. Sherlock quickly lost interest in building a snowman and tried to hunt down the cat with snowballs.  
"Sherlock! Leave it be!" Mycroft had to run after him, he picked him up turning him around. "Stop it, if not for the cat we'd be dead, remember?" he put him down.  
"If you wouldn't drag me away from home none of this would have happened." he pushed Mycroft and ran to the house. Mycroft sat in the snow pile where he landed, his head between his hands. He looked up when something warm brushed against his leg.  
"Hello Gregory." he stroked the cat. "I can't tell him, not jet. It's better for him this way." it meowed. "I lied a bit, you know. I worked in the secret service; I heard when they talked about it, I couldn't let them do that! He is my brother, it doesn't matter who his father is." the cat tilted his head. "I'm not making any sense." he stood up. "Come on we should go in too."

Sherlock avoided his brother in the following days, he wasn't talking to him, he didn't even look at him. It hurt Mycroft, but at least he was safe.  
"He can hate me for the rest of our life if that means that he is safe." Mycroft developed a habit of talking to the cat that followed him during the days. "Hmmm, it's not good." Mycroft put the axe down. I'm already out of breath, constantly tired, the coughing, pain, the shivering..." he looked at the cat wearily and sunk to the ground. "I was always the weaker one; he could be out in the snow all day long, coming home soaked to the bone, and nothing! Once the ice broke under him, I managed to rescue him; he was fine and I almost died of pneumonia." the cat meowed and settled in his lap looking at him worriedly. "Little rest then I finish it." it kept meowing. "Okay, okay no need to rush me your majesty; I'll finish it." he stood up and collapsed. Greg snorted and went to look for Sherlock.  
"Look who turned up!" Sherlock was in the kitchen washing the dishes. Greg started to walk up and down between him and the door. "Why don't you go back to my brother, you clearly like him more." The cat meowed with frustration and continued to pace. "What is it? Do you want me to follow you?" he meowed. "Okay, but I'm not going to apologise if that is what you try to achieve." he followed him.  
"Mycroft?" he knelt next to his brother. "My." he shook him. "My! Please open your eyes, please!" he said with panic. "Please, I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry just please don't do this!" he ran to the house calling Mrs. Adler.  
"What is it dear?"  
"My...MY."  
"Your what?"  
"Mycroft!" he pulled her skirt.  
"Okay, calm down. I'm coming." Mycroft was still unconscious. Together they carried him back to the house, putting him in front of the fireplace. "Fever..." she frowned  
"He is coughing terribly; he tried to hide it from me."  
"Shame." she whispered.  
"What?"  
"He is very sick my dear and I don't have any medicine."  
"Do you have herbs?"  
"I have to check, my memory..." she walked out. Sherlock took hold of Mycroft's hand, he was burning up. "I'm sorry My. I didn't mean it, please stay with me. You can't leave me, you know it perfectly well." then he followed Mrs. Adler.

"Wait it's too hot." Sherlock anxiously paced while he waited for it to cool. "It won't be enough." he looked at her with desperation. "Last time he...he almost died and then he was in the hospital, they had everything!"  
"We just have to sit and wait."  
"I can't lose him."  
"I know my dear, I'm sorry. Come on let him rest."  
Mycroft was left alone in front of the fire wrapped in blankets. He woke up to someone calling his name, he blinked open his eyes with great difficulty.  
"You have to drink this, now!" the boy held a cup to his mouth. "It tastes horrid but you must." Mycroft took a sip from it, it was disgusting; he tried to spit it out but his mouth was covered. "Told you so, drink it! It'll help, promise." slowly but Mycroft drunk all of it. "Good." the boy stroked his hair. "I'm sorry Mycroft, this is my fault. I'm sorry." Mycroft didn't understand a thing; he didn't remember what happened, where he was and he had no idea who that Mycroft was the boy kept repeating.

The next time he opened his eyes Sherlock was staring at him, his eyes red from crying. "My! Drink this, now!" Mycroft shook his head, his stomach twitching remembering the last time he was made to drink something. "Please." he pleaded on the verge of crying. "Please!" Mycroft gave up; he was surprised that this didn't taste as bad. "I'm sorry My." Sherlock stroked his face. "You have to be strong, you have to fight it. I can't do much for you, I'm sorry. You have to get through it on your own..." Mycroft drifted back.

"Mycroft...Mycroft." someone shook him. "Wake up!" Mycroft opened his eyes. "Hi there. How are you feeling?" he just whined. "I know, sorry. I brought you something..."  
"No." he whispered hoarsely.  
"Oh yes. Do you want to get better or you'd prefer to die. I can arrange both, the second is easier." Mycroft turned to his side. "Okay, so you want Sherlock to end up in the palace?" Mycroft almost drifted off when he realised what the other said.  
"What?" he opened his eyes again, but he only saw the cat his tail moving furiously from one side to the other, he kept glancing at the cup. Mycroft sighed and started to drink; the cat rubbed itself against his arm to show his support. "Happy now?" Mycroft managed to whisper before a coughing fit took over him. He vaguely heard Sherlock's footsteps and a hand was placed on his forehead.  
Sherlock sat next to him with tears in his eyes; he watched his brother curled up, coughing miserably, clutching his chest. He settled next to him when he fell silent and laid his head on Mycroft's chest so he could hear his brother's scarce, quite breathing.

"Mycroft!" he woke up immediately.  
"Leave me alone." he whispered.  
"Not going to happen. Drink!" the same liquid was forced into him again, once he was well enough he opened his eyes.  
"Listen now very carefully. You have to leave as soon as possible...don't interrupt me, I don't have much time. She's going to sell you back to the palace. She's been doing this for ages luring kids here, making them trust her then she takes them to the forest to pick berries, hunt or whatever and she hands them over. You must leave! Understand it, leave and take me with you, please."  
"How do you know this?"  
"I...I help her lure them here..."  
"Why?"  
"She's a witch; she gave me a choice this or she sells me too."  
"Who are you?"  
"Greg." Mycroft chuckled and turned to his other side. "Lovely, I'm hallucinating..."  
"No, Mycroft you are not."  
"Shhh, I'm tired." suddenly his mouth was covered and Greg bit his shoulder. "What the hell?"  
"You'll see."

Mycroft heard his name being called. "Please brother mine."  
"Come on Sherlock, let's go and check the traps." Mycroft's eyes flew open.  
"Sherlock?" he whispered.  
"My! How are you?"  
"Never better." Sherlock chuckled and stroked his hair, Mycroft closed his eyes again.  
"Come on Sherlock let him rest."  
"No." Mycroft whined. "Stay, please."  
"Okay My." he kept stroking his hair.  
"All right boys, be right back." as soon as she left Mycroft opened his eyes again. "Sherlock we have to go; now! Get the bag, some food..."  
"Why?"  
"I'll tell you later."  
"You always say that. Please...I like it here, it's warm and Mrs. Adler is nice..."  
"Sherlock do this for me. We have to hurry."  
"You're not well enough..."  
"Don't care, go now!" Sherlock reluctantly left and brought back the bags. "Who’s that?"  
"Don't know; the cat was sitting on it meowing."  
"It was?" he slowly got up. "Get the cloaks." the cat sat next to the bag, Mycroft sighed grabbed it and forced it to the bag."Shut up; be glad that I'm taking you." Sherlock came back.  
"Why do we have to run from everywhere?"  
"Come on." 


	2. Chapter 2

They walked as fast as Mycroft could in the thick snow; he was weak, tired, his head and chest still hurt. They tried to keep off the roads making harder to follow them; but if she was really a witch; as his hallucination said it won't work. They just had to hope that she won't find them. Finally they settled for the night, Mycroft let the cat out of the bag, he bit and scratched him immediately. "Be glad that I took you." it hissed and sat to Sherlock's lap. "You took him! Why?"  
"So you won't hate me. You liked him, don't you?"  
"Thanks. I don't hate you My." he buried his face to the cat's fur.  
"Here, eat."  
"I'm cold."  
"I know Sherlock, sorry. I don't think we should make a fire."  
"I'm so cold, you need something warm; you're still sick My...please, please." Mycroft reluctantly made a small fire.  
"Give me your arm."  
"Why? No!" Sherlock eyes grew wide in realisation.  
"We have to."  
"I don't want it." the cat looked at them questioningly. "He wants to burn me Greg, it'll hurt!"  
"Sherlock we have to!"  
"It'll be suspicious with the burn mark too."  
"I know, but not as much as the mark. I start, it's not that bad." Mycroft burned off the tattooed mark from his wrist. When he looked up he saw that Sherlock was crying.  
"It can get infected." he protested.  
"I know, we'll be careful. I'm sorry Sherlock." he took his arm stroking it with his thumbs. "Just keep your eyes on me brother mine."  
"Okay." Sherlock cried out when the heated metal touched his skin. He pulled his hand away, clutching it as he sobbed. Mycroft wrapped his arms around him tightly, stoking his back kissing his head. "I'm so sorry Sherlock, I'm so sorry." Slowly Sherlock fell asleep; Mycroft sat next to him, stroking his hair when a voice startled him.  
"You should put this on the wound, it'll help. Also you'll have to drink more this time; we have to be more careful; your condition can turn to the worse very easily."  
"Oh, hello hallucination."  
"My name is Greg and I bit you, remember?"  
"Several times today."  
"I meant your shoulder."  
"Sure, if I check it now I'll see it; but it won't be there in the morning."  
"Well then don't forget to check it in the morning this time. Here drink it!"  
"Why are you helping us? If what you said is true..."  
"Because of you."  
"Me?"  
"Yes, I've been a cat for...ahmm four years now. Then you turned up and suddenly I'm falling from the fireplace in the middle of the night like this...It's just for an hour though."  
"Why do you do this?"  
"I told you, she kidnapped me..."  
"Sure."  
"Okay; she changes her appearance according to the victims. She was a young woman...she seduced me." Greg turned his eyes down.  
"Did you sleep with her?"  
"Yes." he whispered still not looking up. "You said that he's not your brother." Greg changed the subject.  
"He is!" he snapped.  
"Okay...sorry."  
"He was just a crying bundle, few days old when I found him. I was twelve back then, on my way home after...after..." he wiped down his tears. "I was looking for a tree to hang myself when I heard him cry. I found him in a basket under a bush; there was a letter; according that he is the illegitimate son of the king. I burned the note and took him home; mum and dad loved him immediately; he is their son, my brother! I survived only because of him, he needs me; I have to protect him. I worked in the secret service; I heard whispers that the queen wanted to liquidate him. That meant only one thing; that he was really his son. I don't know how much you remember but the king only has daughters. He is dying and if he has a son; it doesn't matter if he's illegitimate; he'll be the successor. Obviously the queen doesn't want that."  
"I'm sorry Mycroft." Greg took his wrist. "Now let me see it."  
"I hated it, I always tried to cover it up but it was forbidden...it showed everyone that I'm owned by the palace...they own me Gregory...I'm their property...I’m nothing."  
"I know what you mean." Greg finished changing his bandage and turned his attention to Sherlock's wrist, carefully not to wake him.  
"How would you?"  
"I'm a cat owned by a witch, basically I'm a pet."  
"Oh, yes I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you Gregory."  
"None taken, I'm just glad I can finally talk to someone...Mycroft?" he pulled up the half asleep Mycroft from the ground and leaned him to a tree. "Sleep now, I'm here...I'll watch over you." Mycroft quickly drifted off.   
He woke up to Sherlock calling the cat. "Greg! Greg! Mycroft where is he?"  
"I don't know Sherlock." he quickly packed up and made sure that there was no sign of them camping there.  
"Greg!" Sherlock picked him up. Greg got out of his hold and climbed to Mycroft's shoulder; Sherlock laughed. "Looks like we don't have to put him to the bag today." Mycroft sighed.  
"Could you tell him not to sharpen his claws on my shoulder?" Greg meowed. "What?" he meowed again. "Oh…okay." he sighed in realisation. "Move aside then." he checked his shoulder, there was clearly a human bite mark on it; it wasn't Sherlock's he was sure of it. Greg looked at him with a told you so expression.

"Do you know where are we going Mycroft?" Sherlock asked after a while.  
"Yes." he tried to sound confident.  
"Lovely, so you don't."  
"Sherlock..."  
"We have to go away; I know that's all you keep repeating. But why only the two of us, what about mummy and daddy?"  
"They'll be fine, don't worry."  
"And why like this, on foot; keeping off the roads..."  
"She wanted to sell us back to the palace; I don't want to risk her or anyone else finding us."  
"But why did we have to leave? What's wrong with the palace, you've been there for ages. And now we'd both be there; I could see you everyday..."  
"It's enough brother mine!" Mycroft snapped; he had to stop as a coughing fit took over him. "I can't let them, I can't...we have to hurry."  
"What?"  
"Later brother mine; I can't talk, it makes me tired."  
"You are not my brother." Mycroft stopped so abruptly that Greg had to hang onto him with his claws.   
"I am your brother." he said in a shaking voice and knelt in front of Sherlock.  
"Yes we have the same colour of eyes; but my hair is totally different dark curly; no one in the family has it. The skin is different too, yours is so pale and the freckles; I know that mummy didn't have an affair, nor dad..."  
"You are my brother; sometimes traits can come back after generations; end of discussion."  
"But..."  
"Please Sherlock." he whispered and squeezed his arms. Sherlock remained silent.

"She'll find us." Mycroft whispered to Greg after Sherlock fell asleep. "This forest will never end, we'll never get away." he said with desperation.  
"We will don't worry. I have never been in this parts, but I have a feeling we are close. You still have a fever." he took Mycroft's hands.  
"I know, I'm still seeing you."  
"Drink this."  
"What is this thing?" he reluctantly drunk it; trying really hard not to throw up.  
"Herb combination, Irene uses it herself. I learned a few things from watching her."  
"Anything to turn yourself back?"  
"No, but I made sure that she won't find us easily."  
"How kind of you."  
"You're welcome. We'll just have to find someone who can reverse it."  
"What if your contract is ending and that's why you changed."  
"Nope, it's till death."  
"Maybe you are dying."  
"Thanks, very cheerful thinking. Now give me your hand." Greg changed the bandage on Mycroft's wrist; he kept holding his arm afterwards stroking it with his thumbs. "I still think it was you."  
"What was me?"  
"The reason why I turn back."  
"Me? How..." Mycroft was suddenly pushed to the ground. He felt Greg's body pinning him down and suddenly his lips were met by Greg's. At first he froze then he wrapped his arms around Greg pulling him closer deepening the kiss. "Very vivid for a hallucination." he panted when they parted, Greg sighed and sat up.  
"Sorry, being a cat made me forget about manners; sorry I shouldn't have done this...I never...I mean a man...a man! It's confusing."  
"Not only for you Gregory." Mycroft sat up too.  
"You never...I mean haven't you..."  
"I was raped regularly, I wouldn't count that."  
"Sorry."  
"I got used to it." he shrugged. "How's life as a cat?" Mycroft changed the subject.  
"Well not counting that I have nobody to talk to not that bad. I had everything, food, warm place, a job...that was more than I had at home..." he fell silent staring at Sherlock who opened his eyes.  
"Mycroft!" he sat up. "Who is he?" he asked curiously.  
"My hallucination; Gregory." Mycroft just realised what he said. "You can see him?" he turned pale.  
"Yes." Mycroft's eyes jumped between Sherlock and Greg.   
"I...I...what?" he passed out. When he came around Sherlock was sitting next to him with Greg in his lap.  
"Mycroft?" his brother asked hesitantly. "Are you all right?"  
"I...no." he slowly sat up. "He..." he coughed.  
"Yes Greg was bewitched. Isn't it amazing?"  
"It is." he rubbed his eyes. "We have to go."  
"It wasn't me who slept through the morning." Sherlock pulled him up. "Oh..."  
"What is it?" Mycroft turned to be met by two of the palace guards. Greg bit Sherlock who released him and he run to the trees.  
"Run Sherlock!" Mycroft launched forward to give him time.


	3. Chapter 3

Mycroft slowly opened his eyes; he looked around in the small, cold cell. He tried to get up but he fell back immediately as every part of his body rebelled against it. A noise draw his attention to the small barred window.  
"You...you traitor!" he said hoarsely, trying to suppress his coughs. "You sold us out, you bloody......cat. I don't know what was I expecting...I should have known better than to trust you...You made me trust you..." Greg landed in front of him. "Leave me alone!" Mycroft curled up on the floor with his back to him. He felt little paws walking on him. "Leave me alone." he whispered as his tears started to fell. "They'll kill him, if not already...I promised that I'll protect him...I promised." he put the cat off him. "You got what you wanted, go and bother someone else!" Greg just kept meowing until Mycroft opened his eyes. "Great double vision." he closed his eyes again; Greg scratched his arm. "Hey!" he jumped away before Mycroft could hit him and pushed the small kitten in front of him. Mycroft looked at them with utter confusion. "No, no, NO! You've got to be kidding with me! Are you out of your mind, bringing him here!" Greg shrugged, as Sherlock snuggled close to Mycroft. "And how am I going to get him back?" he whined as he stroked Sherlock's black fluffy fur. Greg picked Sherlock up and climbed back to the window. "No." Mycroft whispered and tried to stand up without success. "Make sure that he's fine, please. Don't let him watch it; don't...please!" Greg nodded and left with Sherlock wiggling between his teeth. Mycroft collapsed back and let his tears flow. Soon the door got thrown open and he was dragged out.  
"Mycroft Holmes." he was hanged by his hands. "Where is he?" the young woman asked with a stern look. "Don't make me repeat it." Mycroft remained silent. She took up a syringe. "Do you know what is it?" Mycroft nodded. "Talk!" Mycroft just coughed, so she pushed it into him. Mycroft cried out, it felt like his body was exploding from the pain.  
"Want more?" she asked when the pain dulled enough that Mycroft was only whimpering and not screaming anymore. He didn't answer, so she continued with injecting different kind of substances into him. Mycroft lost track of time, the only thing in his mind was the never ending pain; finally his body was dropped to the ground. The woman sent the guards to fetch something and knelt next to him. "Mycroft I'm so sorry...sorry."  
"It's okay Anthea." he whispered.  
"Is he?"  
"Safe."  
"Good, good. I'm sorry." she stood up. "Take him back...Oh your majesty." she bowed. "I'm sorry..."  
"Is he talking?"  
"No."  
"You know what to do."  
"Yes." she walked away; Mycroft's stomach twitched in realisation.  
"No, no, no." he whimpered when he was grabbed and took back to his cell. "NO!" his screams echoed in the corridors. 

"Mycroft, Mycroft." someone whispered his name.  
"Gregory." he mumbled weakly.  
"Are you all right?" he asked from the other side of the door.  
"Never better, I hope he's not..."  
"No."  
"Good, keep him away at all cost. Take him away...out of the country; over the see...far away..." he trailed off.  
"Mycroft?"  
"They'll kill them..."  
"Who?"  
"Mummy, father..." he whimpered.  
"I'm so sorry."  
"How did you manage to do that to him?" Greg meowed one. "Oh...take care Gregory." he drifted back.

When he came around he was hanging again. His eyes finally stopped at his mother and father, he tried to talk but his mouth was covered; he desperately struggled in the chains. "Shut up!" he was hit on his side. "Now will you tell us where he is?" he shook his head. "You see them?" Mycroft nodded, his father was stabbed; Mycroft screamed. "Now, where is he?" Mycroft shook his head again with tears in his eyes. His father was stabbed again, then again and again as Mycroft kept silent. They continued it until he fell to the ground laying there motionlessly. Mycroft looked at his mother; the cloth was taken out her mouth. "Mycroft dear, it's okay...it's okay! I love you."  
"So Mycroft will you tell us? Is he really worth losing your whole family over; he's not even your own blood. I can restore your name; you and your mother can live happily ever after. You can work again, go wherever you want; do whatever you want; just tell me where is he? He's just a nobody!" Mycroft shook his head again. "Pity." his mother was stabbed through the heart. Mycroft just stared at her body falling to the ground, unable to take his eyes away. Anthea sighed with frustration. "What now?" she mumbled. "Continue the search." she said loudly.  
"Yes Ma'am."

When Mycroft came around he was in a bed, every part of his body ached, his thought were slow and hazy. He moved his fingers to feel the thick blanket that was covering him. Something cold and wet was placed on his forehead. "I'm so sorry Mycroft." Anthea kept whispering. "I'm here, you're going to be fine, promise. You are safe."  
"Gregory."  
"Who is he?"  
"Sherlock." he mumbled again.  
Mycroft spent the next week on the edge of death, the burn mark on his wrist got infected, he was already weak, still battling pneumonia and spending time in the cold cell didn't help. One day finally his fever broke and he opened his eyes.  
"Mycroft." his eyes stopped at Anthea who kept repeating his name.  
"Where am I?"  
"Safe place, don't worry. Looks like you'll live, mum and Mrs. Hudson had worked very hard for it." she smiled faintly. "I'm so sorry Mycroft, I am truly."   
"You had no other choice..."  
"I tried to be quick."  
"Thank you. Gregory..." he tried to sit up.  
"No, no, no you have to rest." she easily pushed him back.  
"I have to find Gregory, I have to..."  
"Who is he? I can find him just tell me something about him."  
"Cat."  
"What?" Anthea looked at him with confusion but Mycroft was already out.  
The next time Mycroft woke he found himself alone he tried to get up but he immediately collapsed to the ground. He didn't give up and finally he managed to stand up and walked out of the room leaning on an umbrella he found under the bed.  
"Mr. Holmes?"  
"Mrs. Hudson?"  
"Yes, what are you doing up?"  
"I have to find them."  
"The cat?" she sighed. "You keep talking about him in your sleep."  
"I have to."  
"You go nowhere young man, only back to bed."  
"You can't keep me here. Where are my clothes?" she remained silent, Mycroft easily found them in one of the drawers. He got dressed with great difficulty; he was already tired and out of breath. He walked past her not paying attention to what she said to him. Soon he found himself on the ground being dragged by his wrists back to the room.  
"Thank you John." Mrs. Hudson looked down at him. "Will you stay put now?"  
"I have to find him." he whined.  
"Let's get him back to bed." Mrs. Hudson sighed; Mycroft was forced back to bed.  
"I have to find him...I have to." he kept repeating as John arranged the blankets around him.  
"How does it look like?" Mycroft looked at him hopefully.  
"Gray, a simple gray; his fur was very shiny, his eyes are warm and brown...there's a little black cat with him...blue eyes. Gregory...please we have to find them." Anthea came in.  
"Please Mycroft." she pleaded. "Don't get John involved in your delusions. And you don't believe a word he says; he's still not well. Come on." she walked out and closed the door behind them. Mycroft tried to get up again, but he was tired but he simply couldn't fell asleep, not until they are found. He didn't know how long he was laying there when the door opened. He didn't have the strength to open his eyes, just when John cursed and something furry landed on his face he looked around. There was a little black fur-ball jumping up and down meowing furiously next to him.  
"Sherlock." he whispered, it meowed more loudly. Suddenly he was lifted and someone stroked his hair. "Gregory!" he looked at him.  
"Hi there! He is fine. He wouldn't leave without you; I'm sorry. I tried everything."  
"Thank you." Greg wiped down his tears.  
"Shhhh, Mycroft. He is safe, don't worry; he is safe."  
"How?"  
"He managed to run away, I stayed with him and took him back to Irene."  
"What did you offer to her? How am I going to get him back?"  
"Myself and..."  
"What else?" he asked with fear.  
"John take him out, please." Greg handed Sherlock to him.  
"What else?" Mycroft asked hysterically.  
"She likes him; she wants you to make sure that he ends up on the throne and she wants to be his queen..." he whispered not looking at Mycroft.  
"What?" he yelled. "He's just six!"  
"She can wait, she can look as old as she likes so it won't be weird."  
"No, no, no! How could you? No, she can take me, I'll be her slave, I'll do anything but please leave him be...please."  
"I'm sorry Mycroft." he stood up to leave, but Mycroft's whisper made him stop.   
"They are dead. Please don't tell him; not jet." Greg stroked his hair; then he curled up next to Mycroft purring, trying to calm him as he cried himself to sleep.  
Mycroft woke to voices.  
"John; are you out of your mind!"  
"No, believe me Anthea. He was a man when he came here; he didn't leave the room, and now he's a cat. Look." he opened the door; Mycroft looked at them wearily.  
"Gregory." he whispered stroking the cat. Anthea rolled her eyes; she looked down when the kitten tried to climb up on her leg. "Sherlock!" Mycroft scolded him.  
"Stop with this madness." she pleaded. "I know what you went through was horrible, losing your brother, the torture, seeing your parents being killed; but stop with this!" the kitten fell to the ground and started to meow desperately his eyes jumping between Mycroft and Anthea.  
"Come here Sherlock, please." he stumbled to Mycroft who picked him up stroking his head as he continued to meow miserably. "I'm so sorry brother mine, I'm so sorry. They wanted to get out of me where you were; I couldn't tell them...mummy said that she loves you." he kept whispering to it.  
"Great." Anthea buried his face. "I need you Mycroft; please I need your help. Please get yourself together."  
"Come back tonight before midnight Anthea."  
"Mycroft..." she said wearily.  
"Just do it." she sighed and walked away. Mycroft looked down when Sherlock bit him.  
"I know brother mine; I know I promised. I they would have been fine if I'm not captured. They wanted to make me talk..." he continued.


	4. Chapter 4

To Mycroft's surprise Anthea came back.  
"I'm here, don't ask me why? So what is it?"  
"Close the door and wait." he kept stroking Sherlock's fur who was curled up on his pillow.  
"I'm jealous Mycroft." she turned abruptly.  
"Don't be, we're just friends."  
"She wants more; I'm sure of it." Anthea was speechless.  
"No she doesn't; she knows that I'm not interested in women; she knows everything..."  
"Now I'm definitely jealous."  
"We just met Gregory." he whispered blushing; Anthea cleared her throat.  
"Do you need the room?"  
"Believe me now?" Mycroft looked at her.  
"How?" Greg sat next to Mycroft.  
"Bewitched and that's Sherlock; I had no better idea."  
"But..."  
"The witch wants me to get Sherlock on the throne and then she wants to marry him...or he'll stay a cat." Mycroft looked at her helplessly. "How am I going to do that? What are we going to do now?"  
"You wanted to change the regime for years now."  
"Yes."  
"Then get rid of her. I have to say that she's even worse than the king, she has no idea what she's doing."  
"How?"  
"Think."  
"Sherlock is a cat, how am I going to prove that he is..."  
"Irene is willing to turn him back if it's needed for the plan; in that case she'll come here and watch you."  
"Splendid...First we have to find the source; who got wind of him. I haven't told it to anyone..."  
"I know; I'm on it. How long is he human...was he always a cat...?"  
"I answer all of your questions later, we only have an hour."  
"Okay, I get it." she gently picked Sherlock up. "The room is yours." she walked out.  
"Thank you Gregory."   
"I'm sorry I couldn't do better."  
"I'm sorry I yelled at you."  
"It's understandable. I was so worried, you looked horrible and your screams..." he shrugged.  
"You watched it!"  
"Only me, that's why John found us so quickly, we followed you and set up camp in the garden." Greg pulled him to a hug holding Mycroft tightly as he sobbed. "You'll figure it out Mycroft, as I heard you are a genius. You can do this, we'll be here; we'll help, promise. We are here..."  
"She is my only friend, she understands me. I could always tell her everything...everything."  
"I'm glad she is there for you."  
"It wasn't as easy as I said..."  
"I knew you were lying."  
"Of course you did. It was even worse that I found myself drawn to men while I was raped repeatedly and I hated every second of it. I don't know...I just...Gregory..." Greg kissed his temple.  
"Shhh, shhh Mycroft."  
"We won't see each other after this is over..."  
"You'll just have to come to the palace and visit me, I'll be the lazy gray cat over the fireplace..." the sobs took over Mycroft again. Greg held him tightly, stroking his hair until he fell silent.

 

Greg settled next to Mycroft on the bed.  
"Hi there."  
"Gregory." he looked at him miserably.  
"Shhh Mycroft."  
"But..."  
"You don't know...I know that's what you've been repeating all day long. Please stop just for a bit."  
"But..."  
"Shhh..." he stroked his hair.  
"Sherlock?"  
"He is fine; he's been playing with John all day long. They tried to find out who drank the milk, and when they found her John had to rescue him before the other cat could catch him. He's fine, don't worry."  
"He's avoiding me."  
"I know, I'm sorry. He just needs a little time."  
"I don't know what to do now; I've been thinking all day long but nothing!"  
"You are just tired Mycroft, you're still not well enough. You just need a little time..."  
"But it should have been easy...it was always easy; ideas just coming to my mind; but now nothing!"  
"Shhh Mycroft...shhh...you'll find a way; don't worry. You don't have to change everything in a day."  
"But..."  
"You don't have to." he stroked his hair in silence.  
"Talk, please."  
"Okay, I'm going to tell you some things about me after all I know a lot about you, but you know almost nothing of me. My full name is Greg Lestrade...I think."  
"Gregory." Greg chuckled.  
"Yes Mycroft. I'm 21. I lost my mother when I was a baby, so it was just me and dad. He is a sculptor, he really wanted me to be one too, but I'm terrible in it. After he realised that I won't take over the family business he sent me away to find an occupation. I tried everything; believe me tailoring, blacksmith, everything he wanted. I always got the boot after a few weeks, not that I minded. I mean I wanted to work but I had different ideas...like pharmacy, or the police; but my father didn't want to hear about either of them. So I remained silent I wanted to please dad. After a while the general view was that I'm slow minded, a moron, no one would give me a chance. So I told dad that I'm considering joining the military after all I'm not good in anything, hoping he'll approve that. He was furious and he kicked me out of the house...I don't know why he was so against it. I decided that I'll come up to the capital start fresh, here no one knows me, no prejudice...then I met her." Mycroft was still awake but Greg was glad that at least he stopped hyperventilating. "I started to forget things after I become a cat; like where I lived, dad's name I still remember his face; the manners as you experienced; what I liked to do...I mean I remember a few things. Like that I love sleeping; wait no that's a cat thing...I know that I loved reading; I hid it from dad because it wasn't a useful activity according to him. From time to time Irene read to me...I really like that, I also liked when you talked to me. I know a lot about herbs and I learned even more from her..." Greg smiled seeing that Mycroft fell asleep, he kissed his temple, covered him with the blanket and went to find Anthea.  
"Anthea." he shook her awake.  
"Some of us can't sleep all day long."  
"Anthea!"  
"What?" she sat up grudgingly.  
"He is panicking."  
"He just..."  
"I sat in his window all day long; he just mumbled that he can't do this, that he don't know; then he cried and mumbled again...and crying again..."  
"Okay I get it."  
"Talk to him, please. You know him, you can reason with him more easily than me." Anthea got up. "It can wait; I finally managed to get him to sleep."  
"Thanks." she went to check on Mycroft, Greg followed her.   
Anthea sat to the bed, stroking Mycroft's hair.  
"He is very fragile you know; but he hides it well. I've known him since we were a child. He was bullied a lot; he is clever you see, very clever and the others hated him for it. I had to rescue him daily from the kids who wanted to beat him up. He played that he was fine, that he didn't care about it...but he could never lie to me, I saw it how much it hurt him. I saw how lonely he was, I mean I was there for him, but still...After he was selected to go to the palace I didn't know what was going on with him for months; he didn't tell me. After he took Sherlock home, he came over and broke down. He just cried for hours and hours then he passed out; when he came around he told me everything...I didn't see it, I should have, I always knew what was going on with him..." Greg settled in her lap and purred. "I always protected him, but this time I was helpless, there was nothing that I could do...I just waited for him to come home; hoping that he will...I held him as he cried and whimpered, mom tended to his injuries, she made sure that he was healthy; she doesn't trust doctors...Finding Sherlock was the best that could happen to him, at least he had a reason not to kill himself unlike the others. He bared it for years, it broke him...His eyes lost their light, he smiled less and less not around Sherlock; he was his old self around him, but then he came over and it was gone again..." she kissed Mycroft's temple and put Greg next to him. "Talk with Sherlock, please. Mycroft'll get worse if he keeps avoiding him."

 

"Mycroft!" Anthea woke him when she got back from work.  
"Hmmm."  
"We have to talk, now!" Mycroft turned to his other side. "I know you are tired, but we really have to Mycroft. I know how they found out about Sherlock." Mycroft turned back and opened his eyes.  
"Who was it?"  
"You."  
"What? No...no!" he sat up. "I did not!"  
"Not deliberately. It wasn't Sherlock they were after Mycroft. They though it to be you. It was an unfounded gossip until you ran away and took your brother with you. They are not stupid; you know that perfectly well..." Mycroft was extremely pale and he started to shake.  
"No...no...no." he kept repeating.  
"Mycroft!"  
"No!"  
"Please Mycroft listen to me."  
"NO!"  
"Drink this now!"  
"No."  
"Mycroft!" she said warningly. "You know what is it, you know it'll help." Mycroft reluctantly took the mug from her. "Good, now..." she sat next to him, pulling him to her arms. "...just listen to me."   
It's been ages since she had to tell stories to Mycroft, but she still remembered his favourite. After a while Mycroft calmed enough so she could talk with him again.  
"The queen gave out the order to hunt down anyone who could be his son."  
"And why didn't I know about it?"  
"You were away on a mission, remember? You came back and before I could talk to you, you were gone again."  
"Oh, yes."  
"So it doesn't matter if the gossip was true or not they had to die. Since you ran away we only look for your brother, she is obsessed with finding him...How are we going to prove that Sherlock is his son?"  
"We have to find his mother." Mycroft answered with an isn't it obvious look.  
"If she's still alive."  
"I hope so...I think I’ve might met her before."  
"You know who she is?"  
"No or I don't think so...but if it was me, I wouldn't write a letter telling that my son is the king's bastard. I would just leave him somewhere he can be found; not in the middle of the forest. I think that she knew that I'll be there, she knew that I won't turn him in, she knew that we will look after him."  
"So he was left there for you to find."  
"Yes Anthea. It wasn't the first time I was there...I went there after every time; I didn't want mummy to...I just couldn't tell them; I couldn't."  
"Shhhh..." Anthea kissed his temple. "So she chose a new family for her son, but why? She couldn't keep the pregnancy hidden..."  
"Maybe she told everyone that the baby died."  
"But then a body was needed."  
"What if she didn't hide it; what if the king knowing that he had a boy kept her in the palace..."  
"But then why abandon the baby, he didn't hurt his own children."  
"They are all girls."  
"Okay, but..."  
"Everyone in the palace knew what was going on, she must have got scared...or she got wind of the queen wanting to get rid of the boy as soon as he was born."  
"Too much assumptions Mycroft."  
"I know Anthea." Mycroft yawned. "Sorry." he mumbled.  
"Mycroft, Mycroft!" she shook him. "A few more minutes, please. What should I do now?"  
"We need the files about everyone who was in the palace at that time...and a year before. I'll look through them."  
"And how am I going to get them?"  
"You are clever Anthea." Mycroft laid down. "You'll figure...I know you can." he mumbled.  
"What if she wasn't kept there?"  
"We just..." he trailed off.  
"Mycroft?"  
"Please don't tell Sherlock what happened...nor mummy...promise..." Anthea covered him with the blankets and kissed his temple. "Promise."


	5. Chapter 5

"Move aside Greg." Anthea dropped to Mycroft's bed.  
"You've got them!" Anthea just grunted and wrapped one of the blankets around herself. "What happened?" Mycroft asked with worry.  
"Close call..."  
"Oh, but..."  
"I don't think so."  
"Good." she snorted.  
"Never ever ask me to do this, I'm not cut out for it...sneaking around...it's your department. I thought my heart will jump out of my chest...it's still a possibility." Mycroft wrapped his arms around her and stroked her back soothingly.   
"Thank you Anthea."  
"I didn't say you can stop." she leaned to him. "It's a lot Mycroft, they are about everybody who ever worked in the palace...also they are very detailed but I'm not sure that everything is true..."  
"It's okay; I have the time for it."  
"Don't forget that you still need to rest. You won't be use to us dead."  
"I know."  
"Greg will look after you; he'll stop you if you tire yourself out. Won't you Greg?" he meowed. "Especially if you two keep having rendezvous in the middle of the night."  
"It's just an hour."  
"I'm glad it's just an hour."  
"Can I see it?"  
"Not today, I'll leave it here for you tomorrow morning; I rescued your laptop."  
"Why not?"  
"Because it's late and you need to sleep."  
"I've done nothing but sleep for two days."  
"And you are still tired, I can see it."  
"All right." he kept stoking her back.  
"Mycroft you have to promise me something; don't look at your file."  
"Why?"  
"Just don't. Promise me."  
"Okay, I promise."

When he woke up he found his laptop on the table.  
"Let's get to work then." Greg sat on it. "What now?" he tilted his head. "Oh…okay, I eat first." Greg meowed.   
After breakfast Mycroft settled on the bed and started to work. "I can't go through them one by one; I have to write a program. Okay...okay it's been a while, but I can do this." He worked all day long, Greg tired to stop him several times, he meowed, scratched, bite, laid on the keyboard, closed the laptop until Mycroft put him out of the window.  
Anthea got back late, she was met by Greg. "He closed me out. He worked all day long, haven't stopped to eat, he's still working." Anthea marched up to his room without an answer.  
"Mycroft!" he looked at her wearily. "I told you not to..." he turned his eyes back to the screen. "Mycroft Holmes look at me; now!" he didn't do it, so Anthea took the laptop.  
"Hey!" he snapped. "It was enough that I had to start over like three times because of that bloody cat..."  
"What did you just call me?" Greg stepped closer.  
"I could have finished hours ago."  
"Mycroft." Anthea sighed. "I asked you not to..." Mycroft got up to take the laptop from her but he collapsed after a few steps. "I have to work Anthea!"  
"You have to rest." she took Greg's arm and pulled him out of the room.  
"Anthea we should get him back to bed; the floor is cold, he's still not well..."  
"I give him five minutes; we are supposed to be angry at him. I'm sorry Greg."  
"Whatever for?"  
"For his behaviour."  
"He is exhausted...I'm sorry I couldn't do better."  
"He's not easy to deal with." she mumbled. "Okay let's go back." Mycroft was curled up on the floor, shaking. Anthea knelt next to him.  
"I'm sorry Anthea, I'm sorry Gregory." he kept mumbling.  
"Shhh Mycroft, let's get you back to bed." they put him back to bed, Mycroft drifted off immediately. Mrs. Hudson and Greg woke him several times during the day and the nights to make him eat and drink.

"I'm sorry Gregory." Mycroft finally opened his eyes to be met by a worried looking cat; he purred. "I promise I won't do this again; I promise...I have to work, please." he jumped to the table. "Oh...thank you. I know breakfast first; don't worry."  
Mycroft continued to work, but this time he listened to Greg and stopped when he was told.

 

"Gregory could you fetch Anthea!" Mycroft kept staring at the screen, Greg meowed questioningly. "Now, please!"  
"I found her." he greeted Anthea when she came in.  
"Really? Do you know her?" she took the laptop from him. "She is dead; you should have started with this. Now what? We can't do a DNA test...they'll say we faked it. There's no way we can prove it, even if she'd been alive her word against the queens; it wouldn't be enough."  
"Anthea..."  
"I don't know why I let you persuade me to..."  
"I think she's still alive."  
"How?"  
"Remember where we spent the summers?"  
"Up at the lake?"  
"Yes, there is a convent; there was a sister who had a special interest in Sherlock. Reading the file it clicked, it is her!"  
"The crazy one? Mycroft..."  
"I'll bring her here."  
"And?"  
"The queen closed her eyes over him liking little boys, but she might not be happy about him having another woman..."  
"And?"  
"I...I don't know." Mycroft sighed. "Sorry...I'm tired."  
"I can see that. We continue it tomorrow."  
"I need your car."  
"What for?"  
"To go and see her."  
"They'll catch you."  
"No Anthea, I have a fake ID; my involvement wasn't advertised. I'm dead, so no one will look for me. Please...the reception is bad up there; even if someone stops me and gets suspicious they can't call in so easily. I can protect myself, I know what to do." Anthea sighed.   
"Not a scratch on her, promise."  
"Promise."  
"Take Greg with you."  
"No, Sherlock needs him."  
"Sherlock and John are inseparable; Mrs. Hudson can look after them. You take him and let him look after you or you are staying; Mycroft just three weeks ago you were on the verge of death."  
"Okay."  
"You should leave early, I'll wake you."  
"Thanks."

"How will you prove it?" Greg woke Mycroft.  
"I have to think; we'll be away for a few days."  
"Sherlock will be fine, don't worry."  
"I hope so."  
"I don't think Sherlock would approve of it."  
"What?"  
"Killing the royal family."  
"I..."  
"Tell me you haven't thought of it." Mycroft remained silent. "Mycroft." Greg laid next to Mycroft looking him in the eyes.  
"I don't have any better idea." he whispered and looked away.  
"You can think aloud while you drive so I can help you..."  
"Bite me when you disagree."  
"Maybe, but I can tell you my opinion in the evening; I can help."  
"All right."  
"Now you need to sleep, we have a long journey ahead of us."  
"But I want to talk to you." Greg stroked his hair.  
"Okay, what do you want to talk about?"  
"I found your father."  
"What?"  
"I hacked into the registry, he moved up to the capital not long after you left. He came here to look for you...he had the police look for you."  
"He did?" Greg asked in a shaking voice.  
"I'm sorry Gregory, I didn't want to upset you."  
"No, no...thank you."   
"I know his address."  
"Maybe when we get back." he whispered.  
"You are scared."  
"No...I...it's just I came here to do something with my life, to prove him that I'm not a moron; but I failed. I'm a cat Mycroft and I'll stay it till the end of my life. It's better for him thinking that I'm dead." Mycroft grabbed Greg's arm and bit him.  
"Hey!"  
"I disagree Gregory."   
"Very funny."  
"I don't think you are a failure and..."  
"Can we go to sleep now." he turned his back to him. Mycroft pulled Greg closer wrapping his arms around him.  
"Good night Gregory."  
"Good night Mycroft."

 

Anthea watched them with concern.  
"It's just cat hair, don't worry I'll clean it. Anyway it was your idea to take Greg with me."  
"I know..I don't think you should drive, the weather is really bad up there."  
"Look after Sherlock." Mycroft hugged her.  
"Of course. Be careful Mycroft, and listen to Greg, I'll know if you don't."  
"Now I'm going to be jealous." he picked Greg up.  
Mycroft drove in silent all day long; Greg sat next to him staring at him.  
"Mycroft!" he said sternly.  
"Oh...don't tell me it's already midnight."  
"Why do you think I've been disturbing you? Pull over, now!"  
"We should find a safe place." ten minutes later Mycroft parked the car. Greg grabbed his shoulders and turned Mycroft.  
"You agreed."  
"I know Gregory, but I wasn't thinking...I couldn't...there's nothing. I didn't want to bore you with me repeating that I don't know what to do."  
"You promised."  
"I'm sorry. I better sleep a few hours." he climbed to the backseat.  
"But first eat; I'll get the blanket from the trunk."  
"Thanks." finally Mycroft settled to sleep.  
"Tomorrow please talk to me."  
"Hmmm."  
"Please Mycroft." but he was already asleep.

 

Greg meowed with indignation as he fell from Mycroft's shoulder when he sat up abruptly. Mycroft was shaking, clutching his cloak trying to slow his breathing.  
"Sorry Gregory." he mumbled, Greg sat next to him and started to clean his fur. "We are not going to the convent." Greg looked up. "I had a dream..." Greg meowed. "I know but I thought you to be a hallucination too. It's not different before you say it. We are going to see John's grandfather. He was an obstetrician he might know something about the baby. He was the best I'm sure if the pregnancy was known he was her doctor. He might have the file." Mycroft sat to the wheel. "We need to hurry, he lives quite far." Mycroft drove in silence, but at least he stopped when Greg told him to.

 

"We are here." Greg climbed to his shoulder and they knocked on the door.  
"Dr. Watson."  
"Come on in young man; how's your mother...lovely lady. Shame she married your father."  
"They are dead."  
"That's nice." he answered absentmindedly. "Do you know my grandson John; he's studying in the capital."  
"Yes, he and my brother are good friends."  
"Yes, yes I remember him."  
"You do?"  
"Yes, I remember all of them. You scared us, you didn't cry up; just looked at us already analysing everybody and everything."  
"We want to ask you about a woman, she had a baby boy six years ago..."  
"Your brother on the other hand wouldn't stop screaming." he fumbled with the tea cups.   
"Do you know who his birth mother is?"  
"Your mother came over begging me...the queen had every home searched you see. It wasn't easy forging nine months of medical files, but they paid me handsomely; how do you think I bought this sanctuary."  
"His real mother..."  
"Oh...the poor young girl; her only luck was that she's gone mad."  
"Do you still have the files?"  
"Nope, the queen took them; she was obsessed with finding out why the baby died."  
"The queen knew about it?"  
"Well of course, she was her maid; she got her impregnated."  
"What?"  
"Lots of girls died just because they didn’t have a boy...she didn't need more girls. Then came the little boy...I didn't know what happened to the baby; she hid him on her own...she would have been killed so I presented a dead baby; then your mother brought him to me."  
"Then why does the queen want to kill him?"  
"Oh, you have a cat on your shoulder." he petted Greg.  
"Dr. Watson?"  
"Oh, hello. I remember you, I remember all of you. You really scared us..."  
"Thank you Dr. Watson." Mycroft shook his hand.

"Why does she want his death? Why? If she wanted a boy...what changed?" Mycroft was talking aloud in the car. "Why did she wanted a boy...Oh...OH! She would have killed the king; the baby would have been too young to govern on his own, so she would do it for him. Maybe gave the power to him when he's 18 or kill him too! We have to get that file, they screen every baby for diseases, they took blood...we just have to compare the sample with my brother's and the king's." Greg sighed. "What? Oh, I know she has no reason to leave; she'll have us killed before anything could be done...I hoped I'll find a solution...change of air you know; but nothing. Nothing just more problems...What is it?" Greg bit him. "You disagree?" he meowed. "We have to stop; I have to charge the car."

"I know what to do!" Mycroft ran back to the car. "I know it Gregory." he hugged the cat. "I know it...I just have to work out the details; we have to hurry, I have to talk with Anthea."


	6. Chapter 6

Anthea opened the door with fear in her eyes.  
"Oh, it's you." she sighed.  
"What happened?"  
"Nothing, I'm just...come in. Where is she?"  
"We went to John's grandfather."  
"Why did you go to him?"  
"He was the obstetrician he remembered her. He forged the papers for us so Sherlock could stay with us; the queen knew about the baby, she made her pregnant...she did it with more girls...Sherlock was the first boy...the others..."  
"Mycroft."  
"She went mad, it's her...she hid the baby..."  
"Mycroft, please slow down. Please, deep breaths, deep breaths Mycroft...I said...never mind." Mycroft kept talking; Anthea took his hands and put it to her chest. "Look at me Mycroft and follow my breathing...Mycroft...this or..." Mycroft finally looked her in the eyes. "Now follow my breathing." Mycroft slowly calmed down.  
"Hello Mycroft nice to see you again; Sherlock is fine, Mrs. Hudson complained a lot because of the two of them." Mycroft hugged her. "We are fine, I'm here." she stroked his back.  
"I know what to do."  
"Good." Anthea smiled at him. "Sit down and tell me, slowly."   
"I talked with people."  
"You did; improvement."  
"Ha, ha. I talk with them when it's needed."  
"And what did they say?"  
"They are dissatisfied. They already hate her, they hate the new regime; for distancing us from the outside world, destroying the country's..."  
"Slowly remember."  
"Sorry. They want change, we can help them."  
"Revolution."  
"Yes, then we’ll say that it was Sherlock’s plan; hopefully they'll stand behind him…and if we succeed they’ll be more than willing to accept him…I think. I can outline the changes he should make..."  
"What about the proof?"  
"Once we are backed we can get a DNA test, that'll prove it definitely; until that we can only hope."  
"And the royal family, will you let the mob take care of them."  
"No, I'll get them out."  
"What?"  
"I'll rescue them in the last minute put them on a boat..."  
"What if they come back, what if they don't want to go?"  
"I'll talk with her."  
"Talk? Mycroft she can get help then come back!"  
"She could, but she won't."  
"Why are you so sure?"  
"Trust me?" Anthea sighed.  
"Always."  
"What did they do? I mean John and Sherlock." he leaned to Anthea.  
"I thought we'll work."  
"Anthea I haven't slept in two days...I was in a hurry to get back; Gregory almost murdered me for it...please, just a few hours."  
"So you decided not to tell me the details in case I’d help Greg."  
"Hmmm."  
"Mycroft? Mycroft?" he was already asleep.  
"He closed me to the trunk." Greg sat next to her.  
"What?"  
"I couldn't risk annoying him more, I didn't want to cause an accident, but I bit and scratched and meowed as loudly as I could; so he closed me to the trunk. It was the worst hour of my life, I hate small dark places. Until I was a cat it was fine, sort of; but then I turned and it is really really small..." he shrugged.  
"Sorry."  
"I'm sorry I couldn't do better." Anthea sighed.  
"It was never easy with him. Anything important that he left out?"  
"Nope."  
"I thought Dr. Watson was retired because he has dementia."  
"Well..."  
"Great. Why did you go to him in the first place?"  
"Mycroft had a dream."  
"You are kidding with me! We are building a plan on a dream and the words of a demented old man!" Mycroft woke up.  
"Could you keep it down." he lied down and tried to pull the blanket from under them.  
"Mycroft, have you lost your mind?" Anthea covered him with the blanket.  
"Not to my knowledge. Why?" he closed his eyes.  
"Hey, look at me! Mycroft open your eyes!" but Mycroft already drifted back. "He didn't left out anything important." she turned to Greg.  
"The doctor remembered the old days pretty well, I think."  
"You think, are you sure he was telling the truth?"  
"No. But he did talk to people, they are dissatisfied."  
"I know that, thank you. It was just a waste of time, an unnecessary risk..."  
"He has a plan."  
"Yes, to make a revolution; the death toll will be higher, believe me! It would have been easier to assassinate her; quicker, cleaner. He doesn't even have to get his hands dirty...I would do it. And then no one would stand in the way..."  
"They would." Mycroft spoke weakly. "We don’t have allies Anthea, even with the proof the royal military wouldn’t support Sherlock; she changed everyone in the high ranks; they’ll kill us without hesitation. But if we have the people's support...yes it'll be bloody and it'll take a long time but it can work. They'll love Sherlock for getting rid of her, for rebuilding the country, for making it better to live here." he opened one of his eyes. "Can I go back to sleep now." he pleaded. Anthea nodded and kissed his temple.  
"Good night."  
"Thank you Anthea. Gregory."  
"Yes?"  
"I would like to apologise for what I did to you, I didn't know that you are claustrophobic; but even if not I shouldn't have done that to you."  
"Apology accepted." he sat on the bed. "Now sleep." he stroked Mycroft's hair.

"So what now?" Anthea asked Mycroft in the morning.  
"Now give me a few days to work out the details."  
"Not nonstop, I hope."  
"I try."  
"No, no. I need better than that."  
"All right, I promise."  
"I'll confiscate your laptop every night."  
"What?"  
"Sorry Mycroft, I need you alive."  
"But..."  
"I have to go to work, have a nice day boys. Listen to Greg!"  
"But...you can't do this to me! You can't." he turned to Greg. "Please Gregory..." he shook his head. "Great."  
"Stop sulking and start working." Anthea came back for her umbrella. "See you."  
"Okay, let's get to work." Mycroft sighed.

 

Anthea walked down to the kitchen and stopped dead. An old man was sitting by the table with Greg in his lap.  
"Who the hell are you?"  
"Well Miss, your security is lacking, if I may say." Anthea pulled out her gun and pointed at him.  
"Who are you? Let go of Greg, now!"  
"Gregory can decide where to go on his own." Mycroft chuckled.  
"Oh...You are lucky I didn't shoot you Mycroft. You went to your flat?"  
"Nope, you said that it was emptied. I went home."  
"Mycroft!" she snapped.  
"They have surveillance on it but it was easy to get past it. I just needed a few things. I have to go out and meet people so I need to be disguised." Anthea sunk to the chair.  
"It's not a game Mycroft."  
"You think I don't know that!" he stood up. "I can not sit here Anthea, I have to do something...I have to go out and talk with them, find the right people, I have to persuade them to help, I have to get weapons…I’ve already written a program for Sherlock."  
"Weapons?"  
"Why? You thought we’re going have a revolution with...with...towels?" he picked up a kitchen towel. "You’re going to have to talk to some people too. I already selected a few from the military."  
"No!"  
"They can organise an inside resistance, help us get more info out, tell us what where when they are planning against us."  
"And what if you chose the wrong person, they'll kill me!"  
"It's a risk we have to take."  
"We? You mean me."  
"Anthea I'll go out too..."  
"No you can't."  
"Why not?"  
"Who will finish it if we both die?"  
"Sherlock."  
"He is a cat!"  
"Then Gregory will take him back to Miss. Adler. If she really wants to be a queen she'll do everything for it. They can finish it."  
"It's madness."  
"No it's not and you know it perfectly well. It's okay to be afraid Anthea, I'm sacred too. But we can choose this or death."  
"Don't be so dramatic."  
"The medical supplies stopped what little we have won't hold out. Thousands of people lost their jobs because she chased the foreign companies away, people are starving, it's still winter...It won't take long Anthea." she sat in silence. "I made you breakfast."  
"Go and sleep a few hours Mycroft, you were up all night. I hope you dressed up properly at least, I don't want you to be sick again."  
"I did; see you tonight."  
"Yeah."

"So I talked with him." Anthea sat next to Mycroft.  
"And you are still alive."  
"Don't...just don't Mycroft."  
"I'm sorry. What did he say?"  
"He'll do it."  
"Thank you, I was so worried." Mycroft whispered. Anthea wrapped her arms around him.  
"I know."  
"I don't know what would I do if..."  
"Shhh...I'm here. How was your day?"  
"Busy. I met lots of people, I have to go and meet few more later tonight, Gregory will come with me; he wants to help too."  
"Have you taken him everywhere today?"  
"Yes."  
"You can't."  
"Why?"  
"It'll be suspicious; you'll be the man with the cat...they'll talk about you."  
"Oh...yes. I'm sorry Gregory. But he can come with me tonight; he'll turn and we will be out of there before he turns back...or he'll be. He really wants to..."  
"This is a serious matter Mycroft not a date."  
"I know that Anthea; Gregory can talk really well, he can help. I'm tired; you know what that means...please I need his help." Mycroft looked at her pleadingly.  
"Be very careful."  
"We will; thank you."  
"Anything else I have to do?"  
"Keep your eyes and ears open."  
"As always."  
"Thank you."

 

 

"Anthea." Mycroft shook her.  
"What? What happened?"  
"Tomorrow evening..."  
"Everything ready?"  
"Yes."  
"Okay, but you are not going."  
"But..."  
"You got your hands on the blueprints, you persuaded the guards to help us; you did everything. They can finish it...please." she took his hands. "Oh no, no, no!"  
"What?"  
"You have a fever Mycroft."  
"No I don't."  
"Yes, you are. You go to bed and I'll bring you from mum's tea. Now!"  
"I don't have a fever, you won't fool me." he stood up, Anthea had to catch him before he fell.  
"Come on. Where is your Gregory?"  
"Gregory." he mumbled.  
"Yes where is he?" Anthea took Mycroft back to his room. "Oh here you are." Greg was sitting in the window his tail anxiously moving from one side to the other."Closed in; well he is sick again." she tucked Mycroft in. "I told him to dress up properly."  
"He did." Greg sat next to him.  
"I make the tea for him." Greg woke Mycroft.  
"My, Mycroft you have to drink this. It'll be bad, but you have to." he forced the tea into him. Mycroft was too weak to detest. "That's it My, now sleep." he kissed his temple.   
"You lied to me."  
"Sorry." Greg whispered.  
"How much did he sleep?"  
"In the last months?" Anthea's eyes pierced through him."Four hours top, usually less." he looked down at Mycroft.  
"I told you, I asked you...why couldn't you do this for me, just this!"  
"I know." he whispered.  
"Since the last time he got even weaker, mum told me to look after him more carefully, because if he gets sick again soon, he might not survive it. Now he's been working like this for months, the stress, this weather!" Greg looked at Anthea who quickly wiped down a tear. "We can't lose him, I can't lose him Greg. I have to call mum, she has to come over as soon as possible." she quickly walked out.  
"Okay, you two are going to stay with mum."  
"Sherlock?"  
"He'll be fine with Mrs. Hudson and John. It would be suspicious mum coming here a lot. I'll take you before work."  
"Okay."  
"I have to put you in the trunk but it's not that far. Can you manage?"  
"I'll be fine."  
"Good." she stepped closer and checked Mycroft again. "I don't think he'll make it." she whispered.  
"He will; he has no other choice."


	7. Chapter 7

Mycroft opened his eyes; he was weak, his head ached, he tried to sit up but someone pushed him back.  
"Mycroft, Mycroft." a lamp was turned on. "Hi there." Greg's face came to view.  
"Gregory." he whispered.  
"Yes I'm here and luckily you are too." Greg stroked his face.  
"What happened?"  
"You got sick."  
"Thanks, I know that." Greg kept stroking his hair in silence. "What is it Gregory?"  
"Nothing." he said in a shaking voice.  
"Gregory?"  
"We almost lost you..." he wiped down his tears. Mycroft pulled Greg down and wrapped his arms around him; Greg rested his head on his chest as he sobbed.  
"Shhhh, I'm here; I made it. I'm here, I'm so sorry Gregory."  
"It's my fault."  
"No, no it was mine; only mine. I should have listened to you and Anthea. I'm so sorry." Mycroft stroked his hair until Greg calmed down. "I'm sorry Gregory."  
"I know; I'm so glad you are back."  
"What did I miss?"  
"Well, a lot."  
"How long was I out?"  
"Three weeks."  
"Three weeks?"  
"It was really bad My."  
"Sorry. What happened?" he mumbled.  
"Well your plan worked...but I should wake Eleanor."  
"Oh..."  
"We moved here, you needed to be looked after. It wasn't easy, I was home with you until she worked and I couldn't do much...I was...we were so worried." he trailed off. "I go and wake her."  
"Not yet, please. Talk Gregory...please. Please, she can wake me whenever she wants."  
"I already caused too much damage My."  
"No, no; it was me...please don't go I want to know what happened?"  
"Anthea will tell you later. I'll be back in a second." Greg kissed his forehead. Anthea's mum came in to check on him.  
"Welcome back Mycroft."  
"Where is Gregory?" Greg jumped on the bed.  
"Here he is; he wouldn't leave your side, not for a minute. Now let me see you...Good...drink this and back to sleep. I'll call Anthea, she'll try to come over; it's not that easy now..."  
"What happened?" Mycroft sat up, but he was pushed back.  
"She'll tell you, now sleep."  
"But..." Greg curled up on his chest and started to purr.  
"Good night Mycroft."

"Hello."  
"Anthea!"  
"In the flesh."  
"What happened?"  
"It's good to see you Anthea, how are you?" she sat next to him.  
"Sorry, are you all right?"  
"Yes, thank you." Mycroft looked at her expectantly."'All right." she sighed. "We got the weapons and we had the simultaneous attacks on the bases as you planned. We have most of the cities under control; there wasn't much resistance I have to say.”  
“What?”  
“It all went down pretty well and surprisingly quickly…first I was suspicious about it; but we really did it."  
“It’s…too soon...”  
“If you count everything we’ve been working for seven months now.”  
“Something will happen; I’m sure of it…they are planning something.”  
“No, Mycroft; they tried, but since she cut all the connections with the outside, no one would help her. They are trying to hunt down the leaders hoping that it might stop us; but without success, of course. So now they closed themselves in...Only we can leave to work.”  
"It's a fortress."  
"It is, it's under siege but I didn't help them, you said that you want to get them out."  
"You...you...really?"  
"Mycroft I told you that I trust you."  
"Thank you.”  
"How are you?"  
"Weak; I want to help!"  
"You already did, it's thanks to you that it was this smooth."  
"But still I have to get them out."  
"You will when you are strong enough, the palace can hold out for months..."  
"But we have to finish it as soon as possible."  
"We will don't worry. Now drink this." Anthea forced it into Mycroft.  
"Anthea..." he whispered. "Please don't...not this!" he pleaded as he drifted off.

 

When he came around he was back in his old room.  
"How long?" he sat up.  
"A week." Mrs. Hudson answered.  
"A WEEK!"  
"Don't yell at me young man."  
"Sherlock?"  
"He is fine, he's just a kitten but he did more damage than three boys. He and John…that mischievous little band; I still can't figure out how they understand each other; but they play all day long..."  
"Anthea?"  
"Working."  
"Gregory?"  
"There." she pointed at Greg who was sitting at the end of the bed.  
"Why now?"  
"Because Eleanor said that you are well enough to be waken. You still need to rest."  
"Okay." he laid back.   
"No, no; first you have to eat."  
"Later."  
"No, now!" she pulled him up. "Do you want to help her?"  
"I do."  
"Then do what I tell you."  
"Fine."

 

"I'm sorry Mycroft, I had no other choice." Anthea came over a few days later.  
"What happened?"  
"Not much, there are less and less fights all around the country. The palace still holding on."  
"I need my laptop, do you have it? I have to work, I have to do something." Anthea took it out of her bag.  
"What will you do?"  
"Get in touch with the outside world; find a place for the royal family, get Sherlock back..."  
"All right, but you have to rest too, this time for real Mycroft. You won't survive another one."  
"I know; how can I reach you?"  
"I'll come over as often as I can. I brought you something." she put a package on the bed. "Uniform of the guards, you might need them; you'll have to find your own way in."  
"Thanks."  
"But only when everything is settled."  
"Of course."

 

"Gregory."  
"I know I have to go and get her."  
"What if she won't come, what if she keeps you there?"  
"She really wants to be the queen, she'll come. Anyways nothing can keep me away from you." Mycroft smiled.  
"I love it when you smile." Greg smiled back at Mycroft. Mycroft leaned closer and when Greg didn't pull away he kissed him softly. He pulled away, remaining close; Greg cupped his face pulling him to another long kiss.  
"Hi there."  
"Gregory." he smiled and leaned to him. "Do you really have to go? Can't we just call her, or..."  
"We can't, sorry. I'll be back before you know."  
"Gregory..." he looked him in the eyes.  
"Hmmm?"  
"I love you." Greg pulled him close and kissed him.  
"I love you too."

Anthea woke up to a furious meowing. "What?" she mumbled. "What is it?" she sat up and looked at the cat. "Mycroft?" she asked worriedly, Greg nodded. She quickly got up and ran to his room. Mycroft was curled up wrapped in a blanket; he was shaking from the sobs.  
"Mycroft!" she knelt down so she could look him in the eyes. "Mycroft!" she stroked his face; Mycroft opened his eyes. "What happened?"  
"I...we..."  
"What? You broke up?" Mycroft shook his head. "Then what is it? I knew this won't end well..."  
"I slept with him." he whispered.  
"You did what? Did he force you?"  
"No."  
"Did he hurt you?"  
"No Anthea, I wanted it; he was patient, careful..."  
"It was too soon."  
"I won't see him after this is over, Miss. Adler will make sure that he stays a cat."  
"It doesn't mean that you have to..."   
"I never thought that it can be this good." he whispered not looking at Anthea.  
"Oh..." she kissed his forehead. "I told you, with the right person..."  
"I know; I just couldn't believe it...after, after that."  
"I know Mycroft." she stroked his hair.  
"I don't want this."  
"What?" she pulled him to her arms.  
"I don't want to...I don't..." he started to cry again.  
"Mycroft?"  
"I don't want to be on my own."  
"You won't; I'm here. We'll get Sherlock back...you'll be back together."  
"No." he whined. "She'll take him away from me. I won't see him again...she'll take them both. He'll need you; you'll have to be there for him, help him."  
"He'll need you more Mycroft; you'll be there with him..."  
"He's still avoiding me..."  
"He's just mourning."  
"I know...it's my fault; I know it. I should have known better...I should be a genius...I should have been able to take him away...I'm nothing...just a failure...I should have..." he buried his face to Anthea's shoulder.  
"Shhh Mycroft, shhhh. it's going to be all right. You did everything you could; he is safe; you did it." Mycroft just whimpered. "I know, I know Mycroft; it'll be all right, I promise. I'll make sure that you can stay with Sherlock, promise."  
"How?"  
"I know a few tricks."  
"Don't tell me..."  
"I'm not, my mother on the other hand..."  
"Oh...that explains a lot." Mycroft slowly fell asleep.  
Greg was sitting on the floor watching them. "If you hurt him, I'll skin you." she whispered to him, Greg hissed back. "I'm not kidding. Safe journey Greg." he jumped out of the window.

 

Mycroft was sitting in the living room when a little black cat jumped to his lap. "Sherlock?" it meowed. "Apologies Miss Adler."  
"It's all right." a young woman was sitting in Mycroft's lap.  
"Could you..."  
"Feeling uncomfortable Mr. Holmes?"  
"Please Miss." Greg jumped to Mycroft's shoulder and hissed.  
"Oh...I see...interesting." she stood up and smoothed her dress. "I know what you want to say and my answer is no. I want him, I like him...he is so cute."  
"He is six years old."  
"I can look like that." she turned to a little girl. "See."  
"How old are you?"  
"Six...one hundred and six."  
"Jesus!"  
"You don't look like it Miss, you wanted to say." she smiled.  
"Greg said that you can turn him back."  
"I will, but not yet."  
"But I want him back!"  
"Are you sure?"   
"Yes!"  
"Fine."  
"Sherlock!" he ran upstairs when he heard his brother's voice. "Sherlock!" he hugged him.  
"Let go of me!" he whispered with hatred.  
"Sherlock?"  
"Leave me alone!" he pushed his brother away.  
"But Sherlock..."  
"It's your fault, all of it. You killed them! You should have hanged yourself that way none of this would have happened. I'd still had mummy and dad, I would work in the palace, you wouldn't tell me where to go, what to do!" he yelled. "You dragged me away from home, I almost froze to death, then you took me away from Irene and again to the cold...and then...and then...it's your fault; all of it! You should have died...they should have killed you too!" his tears were falling. "I don't want to see you ever again! Come on John." he pulled him out. Mycroft looked around with wide eyes.   
"He...you......Sherlock." he mumbled."You...what did you tell him?" he turned to Irene, she just smiled coldly and walked after the boys. Mycroft sunk to a chair, Greg settled in his lap.  
"I know I deserve this; even more...but...It is my fault, I should have told him...I just tried to protect him." Mycroft mumbled, then stood up, Greg meowed questioningly. "He doesn't want me to be here." he whispered. Greg stood in front of him, but Mycroft easily got around him and closed the door. Greg was stuck, he paced anxiously until he heard Anthea's voice; then he started to meow as loudly as he could.  
"Look who got stuck." she chuckled."Where is your boyfriend?" Greg ran to the front door. "What is it?" he just kept meowing; Anthea opened the door with a deep sigh. "Here you go." Greg ran out and looked back; he walked up and down waiting for Anthea to follow. She reluctantly went after him. "Where are we going?" Greg just kept meowing. "Mycroft?" Greg nodded and started to follow the lonely footprints in the snow. "He left?" Greg meowed. "Wait!" she ran back for their cloaks. "You want him to freeze to death?" she asked seeing Greg's eyes. They followed the footsteps in silence until Anthea cried out. "Good lord!" she picked Greg up and started to run.  
"Mycroft! Stop right there!" Mycroft was sitting in a branch with a rope around his neck.  
"Leave me alone."  
"No Mycroft." she stepped closer.  
"I'll jump if you come closer."  
"No you won't, you promised me; remember." she quickly climbed next to him and wrapped her arms around the shaking Mycroft tightly, taking the noose off his neck. "I'm here, we are here Mycroft."   
"I found him there." he pointed at a direction. Anthea helped his cloak on him. "Few days old...he was so loud..." he buried his face to her cloak. "How did you..."  
"Greg." Mycroft felt Greg's claws sinking to his side. "You promised him too as I see." Mycroft nodded.  
“What happened? I saw she turned Sherlock back.”  
“He hates me, he said that he doesn’t want to see me ever again.” he whispered.  
“Oh…”  
“None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me.”  
“Mycroft, that is not true.”  
“My parents would be still around…”  
“Yes, on their own, because we would have lost you and Sherlock would die after living only a few days. That’s what you want.”  
“No.” he whispered.  
"Come on, we have to go home Mycroft. Has anyone seen you in the streets?"  
"I don't know."  
"Lovely." she murmured. Mycroft started to cry desperately. "Oh Mycroft, no no no please that's not what I meant...I'm sorry. Please Mycroft, please. It's was late, dark, you kept in the shadows..." he nodded. "Good, good. Come now." she helped Mycroft off the tree. They managed to get home without meeting anyone. Sherlock looked out of the kitchen when they got back, he grunted and turned back.  
"Oh no Sherlock. Come here young man, now!" she ordered him.  
"Not until he's around." Anthea had to hold up Mycroft.  
"NOW Sherlock." she took Mycroft up to his room, then went down and dragged Sherlock up too. She closed the door in front of the others nose.  
"I don't want to talk with him!" he sat down and covered his ears. Anthea forced his hands off. "Ouch!"  
"I barely touched you, but if you keep..."  
"Anthea." Mycroft whispered; he was curled up on the bed with his back to them.  
"Fine. I just got your brother off the tree he wanted to hang himself from..."  
"Good." Anthea slapped Sherlock so hard he fell to the ground.   
"Listen now if it wasn't for Mycroft you'd be dead already. He found you abandoned in the forest when you were a baby, he brought you home; they took you in. You were put out because your father was the king..." Sherlock's eyes shot at her. "Yes Sherlock, do you know what that means?"  
"Yes."  
"Mycroft wanted to take you away because the queen wants to get rid of you."  
"But why?"  
"You said that you understood what I said."  
"I do, but I don't want to be the king, she can have it."  
"It's not how it works Sherlock. You are a threat to them."  
"Then why are we sitting around?"  
"We are not sitting around; we've been working for ten months now. We did everything to get you on the throne..."   
"You should have chosen another tree." he stood up and walked to the door, before Anthea could do anything Mycroft stepped to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.  
"But Mycroft..."  
"Leave him be Anthea."  
"At least tell him..."  
"Why? It won't change anything." Sherlock opened the lock without trouble.  
"Keep your mouth shut about this Sherlock!" she yelled after him. Mycroft laid back, pulling the blanket over his head.  
"I'm sorry Mycroft." she sat next to him.  
"It's okay, he'll get used to it; he has no other choice."  
"Will you be all right?"  
"Of course Anthea, thank you."  
"Liar." he sighed.  
"This will be over soon...Go Anthea you are tired; you too Gregory." Greg just snorted and settled next to him.

Mycroft's was met by Greg's sad eyes when he woke up in the morning.  
"You didn't wake me Gregory." he whispered, Greg meowed sadly. "You promised that you'll wake me every time." Greg rubbed his head against Mycroft's forehead. "I need you..." he meowed apologetically. Finally Mycroft realised what happened. "No...oh please don't. Not you too...I need you Gregory, I need you now." he stroked the cat as his tears kept falling. Anthea came in to check on him.  
"What's wrong Mycroft?"  
"I lost them. Sherlock hates me and Gregory...Gregory didn't turn back this time."  
"Oh...I'm sorry Mycroft, so sorry."  
"I want them back. Why is she doing this to me? Why?"  
"I don't know Mycroft...I tried to talk with her, but it's not easy to catch her, then I mixed them up..."  
"What?"  
"She plays with Sherlock...she turns themselves back to cats when he wants to, or when I want to talk with them."  
"What is he still doing here?" Sherlock stood in the doorway.   
"Finally; we need to talk." Anthea sighed.  
"I don't want this."  
"The country needs the change Sherlock and we need it now. Are you willing to help?"  
"They will kill us."  
"No, everybody is waiting for you Sherlock...it was you who did this, it was your idea; all of it. It'll be over in a few days..."  
"What will happen to the queen?"  
"They'll leave."  
"What if they don't want to go?"  
"They won't have another choice."  
"You mean you'll kill them? I won't allow it!"  
"Sherlock..." she said wearily.  
"NO!" he marched away.  
"Mycroft talk to him, please."  
"He doesn't want to breathe the same air as me, not to mention talking Anthea. I'm sorry, but you have to persuade him. Good luck."  
"Very funny...You should go now."  
"Yes, don't worry I won't let anything happen to her."  
"For your own sake I hope. I can't believe mum came up with this idea."  
"She'll be fine, promise."  
"Will you be all right?"  
"Work is work Anthea, you know that I can do it." she hugged him.  
"Be safe."  
"You too."


	8. Chapter 8

"What happened Mycroft?" Eleanor looked him up and down.  
"Nothing."  
"Something did, I can see it." Mycroft looked away.  
"She still thinks it is a bad idea." he changed the topic.  
"Why?"  
"She's worried."  
"Of course she is; me too. Leading forces against the palace...that's crazy."  
"She knows what to do, she'll be fine. I would have done it, but..."  
"I know, I know."  
"It'll be over very soon."  
Mycroft waited and waited; the next evening a knock startled them.  
"All right, let's do this." She nodded.  
Eleanor opened the door, let the two men in and closed the door.  
"Where is your daughter?"  
"In the palace; why? Something happened to her?"  
"We have to look around."  
"Why?" there was no answer. "All right look around my dear, I have a basement too; if you want to check it. I dry herbs in it so please be careful with them." They checked the floor and walked down to the basement.  
Mycroft came up a few minutes later.  
"It's done."  
"What should I do with the bodies? They can't stay in the basement."  
"I know, I get rid of them. You still have a car, can I borrow it?"  
"Yes."  
"Thank you. But first I have to change my appearance." Mycroft worked in silence.  
"Don't let Gregory see you like this." Mycroft turned pale. "I'm sorry my dear. Before you ask, I can't turn him back, sorry."  
"I lost both of them." he whispered than shook himself. "I better be going, will you be all right?"  
"I'll be; I know the way even with my eyes closed."  
"Be careful."  
"You too Mycroft, please don't do anything stupid. Sherlock, Anthea and Gregory need you; don't forget it!" Mycroft left without an answer.

 

He quickly got rid of the bodies and headed to the palace.  
"Where is Geoff?" Mycroft looked around.  
"Ahmm...Could we discuss it elsewhere? "  
"In here." he was pulled to a room.  
"He tried to persuade me not to check out the house."  
"What?"  
"He worked for them."  
"Where is he?"  
"Dead. He wasn't talking."  
"All right." he sunk to the chair. "Go now." Mycroft left, he found an empty room and quickly got changed to the palace guard's uniform.  
"You can go and rest." he stepped to another guard.  
"No I can't."  
"You barely standing on your feet, you are hungry, thirsty. How will you protect our queen like this? Go and rest, we'll change place before your shift is over."  
"Thanks." he sighed gratefully. As soon as his footsteps died off Mycroft went to the room.  
"What is it? the queen didn't look up.  
"You have to leave."  
"Why?"  
"They'll get through our defence at any minute."  
"Then go and do your job!"  
"You have to leave, it's not safe here. We have to hurry, come on!"  
"Why would we go with you?"  
"They'll kill you, slowly, painfully."  
"Why would they, I'm their queen."  
"Not anymore. Come on." he picked one of the young girls up. "We leave now!"  
"Who are you?"  
"Someone who despite everything you did wants to save your life."  
"You are with them!"  
"We have to hurry." Mycroft heard noises. "It's started!" she finally looked at him.  
"You...you I remember you. You died."  
"Well obviously not. Do you want to? Because we can stand here and continue this conversation or leave."  
"You just want the crown for yourself."  
"I don't, believe me. It’s my brother's, he is the rightful heir." he opened the door and started to walk down the corridor. "Anyone not wanting to end up dead, follow me!" he heard running footsteps behind him.  
"Where are we going?" one of the girls asked.  
"A ship will take us away, I arranged everything."  
"What if they turn against us?"  
"They won't. We keep their family hostage, they wouldn't dare to do anything, I promise you. This way." he quickly changed course.  
"And after that?"  
"I have distant relatives who are willing to take us in; until we can stand on our own feet.” They managed to get to the boat without trouble. "Let me see...five...six, okay...good. I'm sorry for this; I'm sorry."  
"Mycroft!" Anthea ran towards him yelling his name.  
"Quickly on the boat."  
"Stop right there."  
"I can't Anthea, there's nothing for me here. I can help them..."  
"Come back here Mycroft; now! We need you, your brother will need you, you have to help him; the country will need that."  
"No Anthea and you know this perfectly well. We are leaving now." he turned to the captain and turned his back to her.  
"Stay, please." Anthea begged. "I need you, Sherlock is missing you immensely; I talked with John, he told me. He has nobody, just you...he needs you now, more than ever. You promised Greg that you won't abandon him..."  
"Why can't you just shut up!" Mycroft turned back with tears in his eyes. He felt hands on his back and he was pushed to the water.  
"Here you go Miss." the oldest daughter yelled back to Anthea. "Thank you for not letting them kill us."  
Anthea jumped in and fished Mycroft out of the water. "No, no NO!" he protested.  
"Mycroft stop struggling or better start swimming; I don't want to drown."  
"But I want to..."  
"Shut up." Anthea dragged him ashore. Mycroft quickly fumbled to his feet and tried to run away, but she hit him on the head. "Now you'll stay put." she sighed.

 

Mycroft opened his eyes and looked around with fear.  
"Mycroft." he looked at Anthea.  
"Where am I? Why did you do this to me?" he slowly sat up, his hand rubbing the place Anthea hit him.  
"It's over Mycroft."  
"Where is he?"  
"I left him with Mrs. Hudson and John."  
"Good. Please make sure that he's fine, please help him, he'll need you."  
"Mycroft..."  
"He doesn't want me to be here; I better leave."  
"Where would you go?"  
"Miss. Adler will move here..."  
"Idiot."  
"Or oversee...doesn't really matter."  
"It matters to me and to your brother too. I won't let you leave!"  
"He's not my brother."  
"Mycroft, please...He wants to talk with you."  
"As he wishes." Anthea just rolled her eyes. He followed her to a room, Mycroft kept his gaze to the ground but he could hear that Sherlock was pacing and mumbling.  
"Leave!"  
"Anthea?" Mycroft whispered.  
"Not you." the others left.  
"Your majesty." Mycroft knelt down, Sherlock snorted. "You don't have to worry; I don't wish to stay here. I'm leaving if you don't have any punishment in mind for me."  
"Stop with this My. Please stand up." Mycroft stood up keeping his eyes on the ground. "Look at me!" Mycroft finally looked at him. "I don't want this." Sherlock was trembling; he was on the verge of crying. "I don't want to."  
"I'm sorry, but you have no other choice."  
"But I'm just six...I didn't ask for this!"  
"They'll help you. You'll learn it, you get older and wiser…you'll get to like it."  
"But I don't want to."  
"You have to go now."  
"No! Choose someone else." he crossed his arms in front of his chest and stomped with his foot.  
"There's no one else."  
"I don't want this, it's not me...I have no idea how to rule over a country. And the marriage...why do I have to marry her, there's no law saying that I have to get married."  
"Because that was the deal with Miss. Adler."  
"It's your fault."  
"I know, I'm sorry." he whispered and bowed his head, Sherlock started to pace again. "They are waiting for you."  
"Let them; I'm the king!"  
"Yes your majesty."  
"All right, let's go then...I haven't forgotten about your punishment." he walked past Mycroft and marched to the throne room; Mycroft followed him in an appropriate distance. Sherlock stood in front of the throne; Mycroft remained by the door, trying really hard to disappear as everybody kept glancing at him.  
"Good morning! My name is Sherlock Holmes and I'm six years old and apparently I'm your king. Not by choice or rather not from my own, I didn't choose my father, I didn't ask them to put me here; but here I am. Mycroft, come here!" The crowd parted in front of him; Mycroft got closer with a questioning look. "Kneel." Mycroft knelt down. "I don't want to be a king..."  
"Sherlock!" Mycroft whispered.  
"Don't interrupt me!" he looked down at him sternly. "I was told that I might regret my decision later, but I won't. It's not me, this wasn’t me…I don't know a thing about this..." he waved around. "I know that I'm young and I'm not supposed to know everything. I know that I have advisors who can help, they said that I'll learn it, but I have better things to do with my life; there are the bees and the murders...sorry." he shook himself. "You need someone who knows what he does, who knows how to manage a country, who wants to deal with this, who don't have to learn it because he already knows everything! Who for the past months did everything in his power to save us. I read all the papers, there's no law against this!" he looked at Mycroft. "So I resign and I appoint Mycroft Holmes; my brother as my successor. You must stay here, you must work so the country will thrive; until the end of your life." the whole room was silent; Sherlock put the crown on Mycroft's head and walked down the stairs. Mycroft looked around with confusion, his eyes finally stopped on Anthea. "Stand up." she mouthed, Mycroft shook himself and stood up, facing the astonished crowd.  
"Long live the king!" Sherlock yelled and the crowd picked it up.

Irene ran to Sherlock with a bewildered look. "You...you...it was his doing! He made you..."  
"Nope, I really don't want this; I'm sorry Irene."  
"He's not even your brother!"  
"He is! Anyways no one would dare to question my words, I was the king remember? I would like you to stay here with me; Mycroft will be too busy with the country. Please...Just one thing."  
"What?" she raised an eyebrow.  
"Greg."  
"Why would I?"  
"If you really like me please do this for me..."  
"For you? For him you mean...no, he tricked me, I won't!"  
"I like Greg and Mycroft will definitely let you stay also he won't let Anthea murder you...please...please...please...please."  
"Don't look at me like that...Sherlock...Sherlock!...Stop it!...Sherlock, please...Fine!"  
"Thank you!" he hugged her tightly, she hugged back.  
"Will John stay with us?"  
"Why? You don't like him?"  
"I didn't say that I mind it..."

 

Anthea saw that Mycroft froze, so she quickly stepped to him.  
"Mycroft." she whispered. "Mycroft, look at me now!" he slowly looked her in the eyes. "I'm here, Sherlock is here, you are not alone; you can do this!" she smiled when Mycroft nodded. "Good. You have to make a speech..."  
"Bloody hell!" someone cried out.  
"Gregory?" Mycroft looked around. "Gregory!" he ran through the room, everybody tried to jump out of his way in time. "Gregory!" Mycroft pulled Greg to a tight hug, burying his face to his shoulder. "Gregory." he whispered again and again.  
"Mycroft?"  
"Gregory."  
"There are people watching us very strangely, if I may say."  
"Let them. Not that they would dare to say anything, I'm the king after all."  
"The what?"  
"Weren't you paying attention?"  
"Nope, I was too busy with sulking."  
"Sherlock resigned and gave the crown to me."  
"So that makes me the queen?" Mycroft chuckled.  
"If you marry me."  
"Are you asking?"  
"Yes." Mycroft said hesitantly. "I know it hasn’t been long..."  
"I love you Mycroft Holmes with all my heart and my answer would be yes; but we should talk about it later. Okay?" Mycroft nodded.  
"Good." Greg kissed him.  
"Ewww."  
"Sherlock." Greg picked him up and turned him around.  
"Don't expect me to act all formally like you did brother mine." Mycroft took him from Greg. "I love you My" he whispered.  
"I love you too Sherlock. I'm so sorry..."  
"I know; me too. I'm sorry My. Can Irene stay with me? Please, I promised that you'll let her and that you won't let Anthea murder her. Please!"  
"If she really wants to..." Mycroft sighed.  
"And John too?"  
"Of course my dear." he put Sherlock down.  
"I better find him." he ran away.  
"What now?" Greg asked.  
"Now we face the crowd Gregory." Greg offered his elbow to Mycroft who took it gratefully.  
"You need rest."  
"No time, thanks to my brother."  
"Don't tell me you never thought of this!" Greg continued to whisper.  
"I always thought that I'll stay behind the scenes, help Sherlock until he needs it, give him advice. And now...in the spotlight on my own..."  
"You're not alone love."  
"Thank you Gregory." they got back to the throne.  
"I'm not dressed for this. For today I had sulking, sleeping, brooding and more sleeping on the agenda; not this!" Greg stopped before the stares.  
"You look just fine my dear, don't worry." Mycroft laced their fingers and pulled Greg after him.

 

"Mycroft, you should stop for now."  
"No, no I have to..."  
"You have to sleep. We've been up all night long; look around My everybody is exhausted. You don't have to do everything in one day."  
"But..."  
"Just look around, please." Mycroft looked around; everybody was exhausted, it was already morning.  
"Oh...I'm sorry. We should continue it tomorrow."  
"Thank you." everybody murmured thankfully.  
"Come on Mycroft, you need to sleep."  
"Okay." Mycroft just realised that he was tired, his head ached terribly. Greg wrapped his arms around him; Mycroft leaned to him and almost drifted off.  
"My...My, please stay awake for a bit more...please."  
"Hmmm."  
"Anthea!" Greg looked around looking for her. "Where should we put him?"  
"This way."  
"No!"  
"Mycroft?"  
"I want to go home."  
"Well this is your home now."  
"NO!" Mycroft got out of Greg's arm. "I'm not staying here, don't make me; please...I don't want to." he looked at them pleadingly.  
"Where do you want to go then?" Anthea asked him.  
"Home." he whispered.  
"I get the car." Anthea left them.  
"Will you stay with me Gregory?"  
"Of course. Come on time to go."  
"Sherlock?"  
"They moved in already..." Greg chuckled.  
"What?"  
"It's been just a day but the guards already complained because of them."  
"Oh...are they staying?"  
"I think so My, he really likes the idea of living in a palace, he'd love having the whole place...I think you should let him stay."  
"Whatever he wants." he whispered.  
"Time to go home love." Greg guided him to the car.  
"Will you meet your dad now? You are not a cat anymore..." Mycroft asked as they climbed the stairs.  
"Maybe."  
"Why not? What's wrong?"  
"He already knows that I'm alive..."  
"Gregory?" Mycroft stopped.  
"Can we talk about it later?" Greg pulled him up the stairs. "Which one?"  
"Gregory, please talk to me. You are not a failure, you never were; you saved the country, you did more than me! Oh...you think your father won't approve of me." Greg just sighed.  
"Which is your room My?"  
"That one." he pointed at the one in the end of the corridor.  
"Thanks." Greg opened the windows to air the room then put Mycroft to bed.  
"Stay, please."  
"Okay." Greg settled next to him.  
"We'll need a bigger bed." Mycroft chuckled. "Can we talk about it now?" Greg buried his face to Mycroft's neck and kissed him.  
"Do we have to?"  
"Yes. Why do you think he won't like me? I was told that I can be liked."  
"You are adorable love."  
"Don't change the subject Gregory. I know I'm not a woman; but if you explain him that you are happy...I think he'll understand it. If he loves you he'll accept it; I'm sure he wants you to be happy. But I don't really know, I haven't told it to my parents."  
"Why not?"  
"Because I thought that I'll be on my own till the end of my life...there was no need telling it to them...it would have brought up a lots of questions."  
"Like what?"  
"Why don't I have a boyfriend...But we got derailed again."  
"I'm tired." Mycroft sighed and wrapped his arms around Greg.  
"I love you Gregory, no matter what."  
"I love you too.


	9. Chapter 9

"Gregory, Gregory wake up my dear. Wake up!" Mycroft shook him.  
"Mycroft." he mumbled looking at him.  
"Yes my dear, you had a nightmare." Greg stroked his face. "I'm here Gregory."  
"You looked like you were already dead...pale, skin and bone, your eyes lost their light..."  
"I'm fine, don't worry."  
"I'm so sorry, it was my fault." his tears started to fell. "I didn't mean it My, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it." Mycroft wrapped his arms around him.  
"It's okay, shhh."  
"I didn't mean it."  
"I'm sure of it Gregory." finally Greg calmed down. "Do you want to talk about it?"  
"Everyone hated me, I was just the husband...I had no use, no purpose..."  
"Oh, I see. Well you won't be that lucky my dear. You'll have to work; hard. I'll need your help; I won't be able to be everywhere at the same time, so you'll have to go and attend events, talk with people, help them...You'll have to learn a lot, law and economy, politics; I'm sorry about that. I can work you till you drop, if that's what you want...I actually wanted to ask you to attend the forum I'm terrible in small talks and...and people tire me out." he whispered. "Not the best quality in a king, I know; but I can't help it. My day is already packed with foreign ambassadors, it's just too much...You said that you love talking, you can make up for the lost years also you'll see how much the people love you. What do you say?"  
"Okay, I'll do my best."  
"Thank you my dear. Anything else? Or we can go back to sleep?"  
"Sleep."  
"Good night Gregory."Mycroft kissed him.  
"Good night love."

Greg walked behind Mycroft wrapping his arms around his waist, resting his head on his shoulder.  
"Thank you Gregory."  
"Hmmm."  
"How was it?"  
"Dad?"  
"Yes."  
"He...it was good. It was good seeing him again."  
"And?"  
"I asked him if he said that he was happy about me finding you because you are the king."  
"And he said; no."  
"He said that."  
"You don't believe him."  
"I just...don't know..." Mycroft turned in his arms and rested his forehead against Greg's.  
"What else did he say?"  
"That he saw us together, he saw how happy we were. He said that the way I look at you reminds him how mum looked at him."  
"And you still think that he don't approve of your choice." Mycroft kissed him.  
"Don't you want to know how the other went?"  
"How was it?"  
"Tiring." he sighed. "They talked, a lot."  
"They were satisfied as I heard."  
"They seemed like it. Just you know we are engaged. I was ambushed about it, I just...it would have been weird if we are not...I thought..."  
"It's okay, I asked you after all and you said yes...sort of."  
"I want to marry you Mycroft." Greg whispered.  
"You do?"   
"Yes." he kissed Mycroft. "Bad news though, you have to go back to the palace."  
"Why?"  
"Anthea didn't tell me the details. She said she called but you didn't pick it up."  
"I was cooking, we need something to eat; I told her countless of times that I won't eat anything from there." he got out of Greg's hold. "Could you come with me, please?"  
"Of course."

"What is it Anthea?" Mycroft found her in the throne room surrounded by lots of angrily yelling people. She quickly pulled him aside.  
"They want compensation for their children. It's a ridiculous sum...I have an idea who is behind it."  
"Miss. Adler." Mycroft sighed.  
"Yes, I calculated how much she'd get out of it."  
"Oh..." Mycroft read the numbers. "I talk with them." Mycroft walked back to the crowd, he tried to talk but they wouldn't let him.  
"Quiet!" he yelled finally. "Thank you. I know what happened to your children is horrible, I know that it shouldn't happen to anyone..."  
"You know nothing!" they yelled back.  
"This won't bring them back, it won't change a thing. The only thing you'll achieve by this is destroying the country. We are not a rich country; these months didn't pass without losses..."  
"They mean nothing to you! You don't care about them!"  
"I do, but I'm begging you; please reconsider this. They destroyed countless of lives, families and almost the country. Do you wish to do the same? Because if you do this, I don’t think we’ll survive..."  
"You have no idea what we went through!" Mycroft sighed and turned to take his laptop out of his bag. Greg didn't like the look on his face, not a bit.  
"Well then." he turned back. "Movie time, then tell me that I don't know what you are talking about." Greg spotted Sherlock in the crowd; he quickly stepped to him and picked him up.  
"Sherlock close your eyes, now; and cover your ears. Please." he covered Sherlock's eyes and headed for the door.  
"No one can leave." the guard said.  
"Well we are! He's just a child." he looked at them for a second then stepped aside.  
"What was that?" Sherlock asked when they got back to his room.  
"It...well...Mycroft will tell it to you later."  
"Was he one of them?"  
"Yes Sherlock."  
"That's why he wanted to kill himself."  
"Yes, but then he found you...you saved him."  
"Oh...I see. And why do they want money? Will it help?"  
"No Sherlock, it won't. It won't bring them back; it'll just tear up old wounds. Every file must be checked, all the footages must be watched to determine if their claim is rightful...It'll get out to the public and more and more will turn up claiming that..."  
"But then why are they doing this?" Greg remained silent; Sherlock was on the corridor a second later.  
"Wait Sherlock." Greg ran after him. They marched to the room; Mycroft looked at them, his eyes pleading for help. Sherlock climbed up to a table.  
"Now everybody listen to me, just me. Raise your hands if the money will bring your child back." there was silence. "Raise your hands if it'll make the pain fade." still nothing. "Raise your hands if it'll make you miss them less. See? Why don't you go home and use your free energy to help those who survived it. They need help more than anyone here. They are scarred for life; they have to wake up every day with those memories. They'll hide from society, they'll think themselves less, worthless, they'll think that others don't want to be in their presence because of what happened to them...And although they are safe now, one day they might decide to end it because they won't be able to bare it anymore. Help prevent it...help prevent more families losing their children because of him. Please." he looked around the room. "I know that I don't want to lose my brother..." he trailed off looking at Mycroft. "Please go home now." he looked back at them. "Not you!" he pointed at a young woman. The crowd slowly left, Mycroft collapsed to the ground as the door closed behind them. Greg quickly sat next to him, wrapping his arms around Mycroft, whispering to him as he sobbed.  
"Irene!" Sherlock stepped to the woman.  
"My name is..."  
"Irene!" Sherlock tilted his head. "Why are you doing this? I though you are my friend."  
"I am Sherlock." she turned back.  
"No, you are not." he stepped back. "You just said it because you wanted the throne, and now you want to destroy my brother to get it...or destroy the country because if you can't have it no one should. Leave, now!"  
"You can't make me do anything little boy."  
"I trusted you. I liked you, I thought you'll...I thought...But no one; no one hurts my brother! That I can not forget..."  
"I'm going to cry..." she said sarcastically. Anthea stepped to them with a bag.  
"Here you go."  
"What is it?"  
"What you wanted. Not as much, but if you put it in a good foreign bank you'll live off it handsomely until the end of your miserable life...or I have this nice dagger. Your choice." she smiled coldly.  
"Fine she took the bag, but I'm taking Greg."  
"No!" they said it simultaneously. Mycroft was tightly holding onto him.  
"I'm not going with you Irene, you can't make me."  
"I can and I will." she whispered hatefully, but she walked out after glancing at Anthea.  
"No, no, no." Mycroft kept repeating.  
"Take him home Greg." They helped Mycroft up. "Don't leave him alone, not for a minute. Understand?" Anthea told Greg before they got in to the car.  
"I know Anthea, thank you."  
Greg pulled Mycroft out of the car. "Come on love."  
"No." he whined.  
"Yes, you need sleep."  
"I don't want to."  
"Yes you do, we have to try the new bed remember? You said that you want to snuggle up on it with the fluffy blanket you like so much and sleep. Now we can do that. Okay?"  
"Okay." he whispered.   
"Thank you love." Greg kissed his temple.  
"I don't want to." he whispered when they settled in bed.  
"What My?"  
"She'll take you away......please don't, not again...I don't want to lose you."  
"Shhh love, you won't. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere; I can promise you that."  
"But she said..."  
"Yes, but she doesn't know that Anthea's mother made sure that she can not do anything witchy to me or you or Sherlock, John, Anthea. We are safe."  
"She did!"  
"Yes, I asked her if it's possible and she did it. So you have nothing to worry about love." Mycroft's tears started to fell. "I'm here Mycroft, I'm here." he stroked his hair.  
"I'm a failure."  
"Why do you think that?"  
"My six years old brother handled the situation and I broke down."  
"Oh...it was a sensitive topic My, you were flooded by memories, emotions; you couldn't think properly; it happens with the best of us. It doesn't mean that you are not capable of doing this."  
"But it shouldn't have happened."  
"She shouldn't have done this My. She wanted you to break down; she wanted you to think that you failed..." Greg continued to talk to him, it took hours but finally Mycroft fell asleep.

 

"Thank you." Mycroft launched forward and wrapped his arms around Anthea's mother as soon as she opened the door.  
"Oh, you are welcome my dear." Greg caught up with Mycroft with his cloak and a scarf in his arms.  
"Come in before you get a cold." she ushered Mycroft in.  
"See My, even she agrees. In pyjamas, in this weather! Jesus; where are your shoes? Mycroft Holmes..." Mycroft just ignored Greg.  
"Oh..." he sniffed around.  
"Yes you can have some."  
"Thank you!" he grabbed Greg's hand and pulled him to the kitchen. "You have to try her pancakes, they are amazing." Mycroft sat to the table.  
"Here you go."  
"Thank you." he looked at her expectantly, she just chuckled.  
"In the fridge."  
"Thank you." Mycroft came back with a bottle. "Strawberry jam, this is even better than the pancake. Should I wake her?"  
"Let her rest."  
"Okay." Mycroft turned his attention back to the pancake. "Who is he?" she just chuckled.  
"Nothing is hidden from you."  
"Do I know him?"  
"It's none of your business." Anthea came in and kissed the top of his head.  
"It is."   
"Have you eaten all of the pancakes?"  
"Is there more?" Mycroft asked hopefully.  
"There will be, don't worry."  
"Here you go." Anthea put the plate in front of Mycroft trying to distract him, without success.  
"Now...let me see him." he turned on the chair with the plate in his hands. "Anthea." he sighed.  
"What?"  
"Seriously?" Anthea steered the frozen young man to a chair, Mycroft turned back.  
"Don't start Mycroft."  
"Why not? I just want to make sure that you choose well."  
"This is like having an older brother." she sighed and looked at Greg who was looking at them with a wide smile. "Enjoying the show Lestrade?" Greg chuckled.  
"I just don't want this to end like the last time, three boxes of tissues and a great amount of ice cream..."  
"Says the one who..." she bit the end of the sentence.  
"Who found his true love at the first try." Greg finished it for her; fortunately Mycroft was occupied with trying to fish out the strawberries from the jar.  
"Hmmm? Oh well..." he quickly kissed Greg. "As an older brother I have a duty to protect you."   
"I'm the older...so that makes you my annoying little brother." Mycroft shrugged.  
"No one said to adopt me, sister mine." he smiled.  
"Not that I had another choice. I rescued you and from that no one would talk to me. You followed me everywhere I went; I had no other choice than to get used to you."  
"You don't seem to mind it."  
"I didn't say that." Mycroft glanced at her plate. "No, no way." she grabbed her plate. "You won't eat anything for lunch. Stop with the puppy eyes Mycroft!"   
"Let's go My, we have to go to work." Greg tried to pull him up.  
"What is his name? Can't he talk?"  
"My...my name is...Henry your Majesty." he mumbled.  
"Where did you meet?"  
"I'm one of the palace guards."  
"I know that."  
"Actually we met thanks to you.” Anthea took over. “You sent me to talk with them, remember?"  
"To talk no to..."  
"Mycroft!" Greg pulled him up.  
"Henry if you hurt her..." Anthea sighed and buried her face.  
"Mycroft I can take care of myself, I'm 22, remember?"  
"I remember, and I know that your birthday is coming up; you don't have to remind me. I just want to make sure that you are fine, happy..."  
"Thank you." she pulled him to a hug. "I love you brother mine." she whispered.  
"I love you too."  
"It was nice meeting you." Greg shook hands with Henry who still stared at them with wide eyes. "Coming My?"  
"Yes, don't be late Anthea." Mycroft walked out. Anthea grabbed Greg's arm before he could follow him.  
"Thank you." Anthea hugged him.  
"Ahmmm. What for?"  
"I haven't seen him this happy in ages..."  
"Oh, I do my best, but I think the pancakes helped the situation a lot."  
"Do you really want to marry him, truly?"  
"Yes."  
"Really?"  
"Yes Anthea."  
"Good, it won't be like this at all time."  
"I know."  
"He won't survive if you leave him."  
"I'm not planning to."  
"My threat still stands..."  
"I know; I think I should go after him now."  
"I put her on a plane, I wanted to finish it permanently but Sherlock wouldn't let me. She's gone."  
"Good, do you think she'll stay gone?"  
"We can only hope."  
"Thanks, see you."

 

"Are you all right?" Greg wrapped his arms around Mycroft who was standing by the window staring out absentmindedly.  
"Hmmm?"  
"Everything is all right love?"  
"Yes my dear."  
"Good." Greg kissed the base of his neck. Mycroft turned and wrapped his arms around Greg burring his face to his t-shirt. "Mycroft?" Greg asked worriedly. Mycroft draw in a ragged breath. "I'm sorry."  
"What for? Talk to me love, please."  
"I'm fine, promise. I just never thought that...that I find anyone who would want to be with me."  
"Well I'm here and I'm not going anywhere, you're not going to be that lucky." he kissed his temple; Mycroft tightened his hold around him. "I'm here love." Greg felt Mycroft's tears damping his shirt. "Shhh, shhh...it's okay. I'm here, I'm here." he stroked his hair. Anthea knocked on the door.  
"Come in."  
"Good, you are up. What's wrong?"  
"Nothing."  
"I wouldn't call this nothing!" she pulled Mycroft to her arms.  
"I'm fine Anthea; just..." he trailed off.  
"Happy?" Mycroft nodded. "Good." she smiled. "Mum made you pancakes."  
"Did she?" Mycroft head shout up.  
"Yes, I brought it over, no I did not forget the jam; don’t worry." Mycroft's tears were falling again.   
"I'm sorry, sorry." he wiped down his tears.  
"It's okay Mycroft." she pulled him close. "It's all right."  
"Are you coming or I can eat all the pancakes?" Sherlock poked his head into the room.  
"Don't you dare." Mycroft wiped down his tears and hurried after him.  
"I don't think he'll be able to get through the day." Anthea sighed.  
"Why?" Greg asked with worry.  
"He'll exhaust himself with all this crying...It's too much for him."  
"I'm sorry."  
"No, no; this is good, I mean you getting married; this is the best that could happen to him. I call them to come earlier, that way we finish early and he can rest. I call mum, Mrs. Hudson, John, Henry and ask them not to come. That way it'll only be us and your dad...Oh the ball! We should cancel it..."  
"No need Anthea." Mycroft was standing in the doorway with a plate of insane amount of pancake and jam.  
"Are you going to eat all of that?"  
"Yes."  
"I better watch this." she sat down, Mycroft just frowned.  
"Come here love." Greg pushed him to the bed.  
"Breakfast in bed, I'm not washing the linen Gregory."  
"Fine." he settled next to him. "Do you think that I..."  
"Get your own." Mycroft put his arm around the plate protectively. "Sorry my dear." he whispered; Greg laughed and kissed him.  
"It's okay. Want some Anthea?" he stood up.  
"I already had; thanks."  
"I'll be fine Anthea." Mycroft looked at her when they remained alone. "We can't cancel the ball, you know it perfectly well."  
"Are you sure? They'd be a bit disappointed; there would be a little talking, but..."  
"I know, but I promise. It's just I woke up and...I don't know." he wiped down his tears. "Oh, not again." he whined. "Sorry...It's just I stood there watching him sleep, wondering why me. He could have had anyone, he's so clever and kind and gorgeous; he could have had anyone..." Anthea sat next to him and took the pate from his hands.   
"Look at me Mycroft." Mycroft looked at her with tear filled eyes; Anthea took his hands and stroked it with her thumbs.  
"I'm just noting...I'm broken...I'm..."  
"Shhh..."  
"He deserves better."  
"Mycroft, please."  
"What if he only stayed because he thinks that he turned back because of me and now he stays to repay it...what if..."  
"Shhh...shhh." Mycroft fell silent and kept his eyes locked with Anthea's, she remained silent until his breathing slowed down. "Mycroft I talked with Greg countless of times about this. I told him not to stay if he didn't mean it, I told him it won't be easy with you; believe me I know." she kissed Mycroft's forehead. "He told me every time that he wants to be with you, that he loves you more than anything; that he can look after you. He is here because he wants to and only because of that. But if you want it, I can make him disappear. I can tell him that my selfless, kind, loving, faithful, clever, brave, good looking little brother doesn't want to marry the love of his life."  
"Please don't." Mycroft whispered. Anthea wrapped her arms around him tightly.  
"I won't, don't worry...You have a pancake to finish, remember?" Mycroft chuckled. "Good, I'm watching you."  
"Can I come in?" Greg asked from the corridor.  
"Yes my dear."  
"Everything all right? Still battling against the pancakes?"  
"I was a bit...well." Mycroft pointed at his face; Greg sat next to him.   
"I called everyone they are coming earlier so we need to hurry."  
"But..."  
"You'll have time to rest before the ball; you open it, dance a bit talk with people then we can come back home. Okay?"  
"All right." Mycroft kissed him, Greg chuckled. "What?"  
"Strawberry." Mycroft kissed him again. 

 

"Greg." Anthea stepped to him.  
"Look at him!"  
"I am, he is tired."  
"But he's enjoying it, see he's talking to people, smiling, dancing, he..."  
"He acts like this when he's tired out, I know it. Take him home, now!"  
"Yes boss." Greg left to find Mycroft who disappeared again. "Come on love, we can go home."  
"Dance with me!"  
"Mycroft..."  
"Please Gregory."  
"All right; but just one." Mycroft pulled Greg behind him to the dance floor, then wrapped his arms around him.  
"Sorry I'm still not good at it."  
"You dance lovely my dear, we'll practice it! I love dancing, I learned it for Anthea...I wanted to teach Sherlock too, but he's too young for it I guess." they danced until Mycroft's legs gave up; Greg wrapped his arms around him tightly.  
"My...Mycroft!" Greg called his name.  
"Hmmm?"  
"Time to go home love. You are asleep on your feet."  
"No, no. One more please…"  
"At another time. Come on, I get the car."  
"No, walk home with me." Mycroft whispered.  
"Love you are barely standing on your feet."  
"Please, I always walked home alone...I want to walk home with you; Gregory..." he looked at Greg pleadingly.  
"Anthea will skin me.” he murmured. “Let’s go then. I promise Mycroft, you won't have to walk home alone, never again." they walked home slowly in silence.


End file.
